Noticed
by QueenCelestiaxyv
Summary: Canada decides to inform Russia that he does not enjoy being sat on by the fat Russian in a rather unforgettable manner. CANARUSS
1. Noticed

**Noticed**

**Author: **Queen Celestia

**Betareader:** daedricgurl

**Disclaimer: **Do not own or make money off of.

**AN:** This might jazz up a certain episode for you~ I did this for sketchfiend who wanted Canada and Fat Ass Russia. Oh and also to satisfy my own perverted desires. :] I'm sure they aren't in character at all. / fail

**Notes: **I totally think Newfoundland is Matthews glasses. It was the last province to become part of Canada. :]

xxxxx

This time he was determined after last times embarrassment of Russia sitting on him, he was determined that at this meeting he would be noticed.

In fact he had come extra early and had watched England draw the pictures on the board.

The soothing sound of chalk on the blackboard was unable to block out the reoccurring memories of the horribly mortifying situation that had happened whilst Russia had sat on him. He tried to push the memory out, and let his gaze follow each line made, the dust lightly flying up onto England's sleeve.

Steely eyes watched as the rest of the countries filed in, before they widened in horror as Russia's fat ass once again settled down upon his lap.

"Umm, excuse me."

Matt whispered. Irritated that his voice came out barely audible, he tried again.

"Russia..."

In response, Russia's fat ass ground harder against Canada's lap, causing that horrible friction to start again, the friction that led to last times horrible memory.

"Russia, I'm here."

Matt spoke up in a louder voice; however, it was drowned out by Alfred's booming voice spreading across the room like toxic hamburger particles.

"LET'S START THE MEETING!"

Feeling Russia's back side settle firmly against him, Matt knew that he would not be heard. Resting his forehead against Russia's back, he took a breath, and decided to settle in for the meeting.

Lord, Ivan was a fat ass, Matt thought disgruntledly as he felt his legs go numb, it didn't help that he had a semi erection pressing right up against it.

The usual squabbling took place, but instead of paying attention to it, Matthew was trying hard to reconnect with his legs. It didn't help when Ivan fully relaxed, his back pressing up against his face, before shifting his right shoulder back and brushing… _that_.

A shudder ran through his body and his cock sprung fully to life.

'Please don't do it again…' Came the desperate thought.

He could feel Ivan rumble against him as a suggestion was made, before the arm brushed again against _that_.

"Ahn,"

Matthew moaned lightly, all pretensions of decency flying out the window. He was horny as hell, and having Russia continuously brush against his erogenous zone, was not helping. Sure many people may think him unskilled and a virgin, but that was only because they were forgetting that he had had extensive contact with France, and Francis certainly had some skills.

Plus, Ivan was seriously pissing him off, actually everyone was pissing him off, no one was even noticing him even when he was seriously aroused.

Glancing down, Matthew noticed that Ivan's jacket had rode up at the back, leading to a very nasty revenge plot.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Matthew freed his trapped arms, and began to slide them up under Ivan's jacket, inching his way along his ass and thighs, before gently cupping Ivan's crotch.

Taking a breath; Matt assessed the situation to see if there was any reaction -

Nothing.

Relaxing, his right hand wandered down Ivan's thigh, gently stroking, while his left hand shifted down to firmly press against Ivan's scrotum through the fabric.

Rubbing his own erection very firmly against Ivan's ass, Matthew got to work.

This was so wrong, but just the fact that he, simple ghostly Canada, shouldn't be doing this, with his brothers in the room, people who practically raised him made it even better.

Hell, he would welcome Alfred looking past his giant milkshake and noticing him getting it on with Russia.

Maybe cause some fucking excitement for once.

He felt Ivan go particularly still, as if not quite believing what was happening.

"Neh Russia, do you have any thing to add?" France asked.

Matthew stilled his movements, whilst Ivan looked over to France his expression clearly showing he hadn't been paying attention.

"Can I invade Georgia with this plan and make him cry?" Came the sweet question.

Bastard, always wanting to invade, Matthew angrily thought, as he shifted his grip on Ivan's thigh, and trailed his hand up to unbutton his trousers. His fingers brushed against the harsh material of Ivan's pants, before finding the button and pushing it through.

"Umm, we were talking about the food crisis…" France muttered, clearly regretting even bringing Russia into the conversation.

Matthews hand closed around Ivan's cock, pulling it fully out of his pants, glad that he was able to be this daring, with how conveniently Ivan's jacket hid everything that happened to be going on.

"Invading Georgia will provide much n-needed entertainment." Russia finished up a little breathlessly.

"No!"

Alfred boomed out, slamming his giant milkshake down upon the table, causing the lid to pop off and white sticky liquid to spray out and hit the table.

"Part of the deal of you being part of the G8 was that you stop invading other countries!"

"I don't see how that has stopped you," Ivan took a shaky breath, as Matthew's middle finger pushed up against the slit of his cock, "from in-in-vading other countries."

Alfred pushed his spectacles up angrily, his chubby cheeks reddening.

"Are you making fun of me Russia? Do we need to have show down? Man on man? I was bringing JUSTICE to those poor oppressed people! Not invading!"

"Nng, I'll be sure to inform Iraq of that the next time I see him."

Russia muttered, his usual complacent smile turning into a sort of grimace.

"You be sure to!" Alfred retorted proudly, clearly believing that Russia had capitulated to his argument.

He could feel Ivan shivering in suppressed desire, as he began to stroke, up, down, his grip becoming firmer and firmer, as Ivan's erection got harder and harder.

"He's just insulted you idiot." Arthur muttered as Alfred sat down.

"Insulted me?" Alfred asked suspiciously, sending a dirty look over to Ivan.

"Yes." Arthur mumbled, clearly having given up on trying to explain these sorts of things to Alfred.

"HEY RUSSIA!"

Alfred shouted, causing Matthew to jump slightly, with the added effect of extra grinding of his erection against Russia's ass.

"Did you insult me?"

Russia, let out a low growl, turning his purple eyes upon Alfred.

"I don't think it's much of an insult if the one being insulted needs someone else to point it out."

"Are you saying I'm stupid then? Huh? Why don't you come up here and say it to my face!"

"Why should I bother? My chair is particularly comfortable." Ivan replied.

"Eh? Do I have to come over there and drag your fat ass out of that chair?"

"Stop it! Stop it!" Arthur shouted, shoving Alfred firmly back into his chair, "We don't need to start fights here! I have a headache lets get this over with!"

Turning back to the rest of the group, he growled.

"Is there anything else anyone would like to add?"

"Oui! The lube is in the air duct!" Francis piped up as he looked to a corner of the room, twirling a lock of hair in a distracted manner. Arthur turned bright red at his statement.

"Francis! Something of import! Not one of your weird perverted whims!"

"Hmmm?" Francis turned his gaze over to Arthur, "Who says I was hitting on you? Unless you want me to? To be honest I'm finding this room absolutely stifling, to remove my clothes would be but a moment."

"MEETING ADJOURNED!"

Arthur barked, storming out before anyone could protest. Scowling at Russia, Alfred clearly decided that he needed a new milkshake more than he wanted to fight Russia, so he slouched off, followed by the other countries. Francis lingered for a moment, giving Russia a rather naughty wink, before firmly closing the door behind him.

Matthew, ever since Francis' remarks, had frozen mid-stroke, feeling mortified that he had been watched the entire time, and now, without meaning to, he had actually gotten trapped alone with Russia, whom he had been ruthlessly rutting against, in the room.

"Don't stop."

Ivan whispered, when it became clear that Matthew was considering stopping altogether. Ivan's voice seemed rather… defenceless somehow. As if no one had really ever bothered to give him a rather good grope, or paid him any attention in this way.

"It feels good."

Well. If Russia wasn't having any problems, and it had been a hell of a long time since the last time he had been laid – well. Why not eh? Releasing Ivan's cock, Matthew offered a solution.

"Get off me and it will be better, I promise."

Ivan seemed to hesitate, before quietly asking.

"Y-you won't run away?"

"I won't."

After another second of hesitation, Ivan stood up, turning around to face Matthew, his erection poking up against his jacket now quite noticeably, while his pants fell down to the ground.

Dishevelled, Matthew looked up, licking his lips at the rather erotic site before him. Ivan's cheeks were flushed, he seemed out of sorts and his violet eyes were darker with a sort of confused desire.

Standing up, Matthew began to unbutton Ivan's jacket, before pushing it fully off and letting it fall against the table with a 'thump'.

"Why do you always wear this scarf?" he asked with a kindly whisper while gently tugging at it.

He was close to Ivans height – despite everyone seeming to think of him being shorter than Alfred, he was actually about the same height. He just didn't leave much of an impression. However, he still had to look up, tilt his own violet eyes to meet with the connecting ones,

"I mean old man winter doesn't hang around my place all year round."

"He doesn't… it's…"

Ivan didn't seem to want to answer the question, and deciding not to wait for the answer, Matthew tugged the scarf off, before laying it on the table with some respect.

Fingers deftly worked on the buttons on Ivan's shirt, years of practice showing with the ease Matthew undid them.

Ivan just stood there limply; watching, engrossed in the novelty that someone was actually voluntarily undressing him. Matthews hands weren't shaking, unlike Lithuania's, nor did Matt have a look of fear on his face like Latvia, nor did Matt seem to want to rush things like Estonia.

In fact, with how Matt slowly pushed open the shirt, it seemed that… he was actually enjoying the company.

"Hmm, you don't get too much sex do you?"

Matthew asked, as he brushed his thumb against Ivan's puckering nipple.

"You're reacting so easily."

"No one really wants to with me." Came the admission.

The shirt opened further, revealing Ivan's broad chest, and slightly rounded stomach.

"I don't understand why…" Matthew murmured, as he ran his hand over Ivan's stomach, trailing it down towards his cock.

"But wait… What about Belarus?"

Ivan froze, "I – that's, that's incest. She scares me."

"Ahh, I don't think incest really applies to us." Matthew murmured as he knelt down.

"Does that mean you would have sex with Alfred?"

Ivan asked with curiosity, as Matthew leaned forward and gently licked along the pulsing vein of Ivan's cock. Snorting, Matthew murmured.

"Alfred is too homophobic, but if he got over that, I'm sure he would make a nice bottom."

"Why do you say bottom?" Ivan's fingers curled up against his jacket that lay on the table as Matthews' hot breath continuously hit against his cock.

"Because hero's need to get fucked over good to actually do any good." A tentative swipe of the tongue briefly lacerated the tip.

Before Ivan could come up with a response, Matthew deep throated him without warning.

"Aaahn,"

Moaning out, Ivan was absolutely transfixed by the site. No one had ever taken him on like that, sure he had tried something like this with Lithuania – who seemed to have some knowledge from his time with Poland, but after the entire disaster, he hadn't dared try request this again.

Shit, it felt so good, so much better than sunlight, or any other thing that he preferred usually.

Hell, he would give up 80% of his daily vodka intake if he could get this everyday.

The suction felt too good, and Ivan felt himself slipping into animalistic thrusting, ignoring the choking sound coming from Matthew, as he twined his fingers firmly into the golden hair, his natural instincts taking over.

"So fucking good,"

Ivan growled out, with a few more jerks, he felt himself – not coming.

Eyes flying open in rage, he glared at the fingers firmly clamped around the base of his cock, stopping him from fully coming, while Matthew, glared up at him, his lips red around the flushed cock.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Matthew really looked pissed off, teeth brushed menacingly against the erect phallus and after a few moments of silent threats, Ivan finally let go his death grip on the hair, knowing that this would be one fight he would lose. With a pop, the erection sprang free, strands of saliva still connecting it to Matthews flushed mouth, before being unceremoniously broken as Matthew stood up, his grip on the base still intact.

"Bastard," he hissed, "You act like you've never had sex before with your lack of restraint. I nearly gagged to death."

"Who was the one asking for it?" Ivan asked darkly, that hint of a calm smile that was anything but kindly.

"_Merde_."

Matthew muttered, as he released his grip and took a step back.

"Are you going to stop when things are unfinished?"

The question was laced with a threat, the threat that if Matthew attempted to leave now his attempt would fail one hundred percent. Ivan could feel the disappointment rising in him at the situation. Here finally comes along someone who seemed to want to have a form of consensual sex with him, and then, they change their mind because they gagged a little. Leading him on wasn't a very nice thing to do, and when people weren't very nice, Ivan knew that those not very nice people needed to be taught a lesson.

"No."

The reply was firm, but Ivan watched as the smaller blond stepped away, his eyes scanning the ceiling, as if searching for something. Before he could ask, Matthew was up on the table, and with a stretch, his hands gripped the grill of the air duct and shifted it open. One hand reached in, and fumbled about in the ceiling, before with a gentle 'aha', the quested item was found.

"Here catch."

Ivan reflexively caught the lube tossed at him, before Matthew closed the grill, and stood there staring down at him. There was a strange expression on Matthews face, one Ivan couldn't quite make out.

"C'mon."

Matthews hand extended towards him.

"Get onto the table, we'll fuck up here."

Taking the proffered hand, Ivan felt himself being tugged onto the table, however his pants had caught on his boots, which were still on, making the task much more difficult than needed.

"Hold on."

Ivan placed the lube onto the table, before bending down giving Matt a full view of his ass, as he quickly removed his boots and socks, and fully shaking off his pants. Ignoring the hand, Ivan climbed onto the table, and stalked towards the smaller man, his eyes clearly reading him as prey.

"I feel that someone is being unfair." Came the childish complaint, as Ivan gently tugged against Matthews suit jacket. "Why am I the only one fully naked?"

"If you feel it to be unfair, you can feel free to undress me." Came the calm response.

Ivan frowned, he was expecting Canada to be more… bashful. Act more like a virgin, not like this mad rutting experienced French person. Not just boldly inform him, that yes you may take my clothes off. The only thing that Ivan was currently approving of was the flushed cheeks, and too bright eyes hidden behind the glasses.

"First off I'll remove these." Ivan murmured, as he gently lifted off the glasses. "You don't actually need these to see right?"

"No but please, be careful with Newfoundland." Was the murmured reply.

"Of course."

Matthew watched with some trepidation, as Ivan reached up, and stuck them into the air duct. "No way they can get broken now da?"

Glancing up, Matthew nodded, hoping to all hell, it wasn't too windy in the air duct or else there would be some serious complaints.

Matthew stood there still, waiting for Ivan's next move, while Ivan simply stared at him, as if unable to fully make up his mind of what he wanted to do next.

"No, I've changed my mind, I want you to undress yourself. It will be much more interesting for me if you do."

There was the expected flush as Matthew heard the order, wondering when this had all turned around. Although of course Russia would never bottom, he didn't seem the type.

With fingers that seemed to suddenly become unsure of themselves – for it had actually been quite a long time since he had last had sex – Matthew began to undress.

Ivan's gaze seemed to intensify with each item of clothing that fell onto the table, the jacket, the tie, the simple white shirt.

"You are a very naughty boy Matvey, wanting to tease me so openly."

"Wouldn't need to if you didn't sit your big fat ass on me." Matthew replied, as he undid the button to his pants.

"I didn't think you spoke so vulgarly."

Bending down to remove the remnants of his clothing, Matthew smirked, before muttering.

"There are lots of things you don't know about me."

Tossing his shoes onto the floor, Matthew quickly picked up the scarf, his mind forming a plan. He knew Ivan to be a very proud man, a very unstable man, a very unpredictable man. To be honest, despite it being irritating that no one seemed to notice him Matthew had come to accept his position and used it to his advantage. He helped establish things, resolve conflicts. If someone bothered to take a look, they would notice that Canada was everywhere.

Not that they ever did.

Who would ever suspect a beer-drinking hockey playing maple syrup obsessed Canadian eh?

"Neh Russia, do you mind if I put this on?" Matthew asked coyly looking up. He didn't really wait for a response as he placed the scarf around his neck, before moving and leaning back on the half hazard pile of clothing on the conference table.

If Ivan's cock could get any bigger it would have, with how provocatively Matthew displayed himself; no shame at all.

"You seem to be very good at this Matvey." Ivan murmured, as he knelt down beside him, his larger body overshadowing.

"Lots of time to think eh?" Came the reply, as he reached up and twined his fingers into the light blond hair of Ivan. "I'm sure you understand."

Their eyes connected, a brief moment of understanding, before Matthew leaned up, and connected his mouth with Ivan's. It was not as aggressive as would be expected, it was a connection of the lips, an exploration of places yet unknown. And it was something that Ivan had never experienced in his life. The enthusiasm which Matthew seemed to be directing towards him was something he wasn't used to, he kept expecting him to back away or change his mind, to get a look of fear onto his face.

Instead, he initiated a tentative deepening of the kiss. Allowing access, there wasn't the initial thought out to be domination battle, it was just Matvey's tongue inside, exploring, sensuously running their tongues together. So engrossed was Ivan by this simple kiss, that he only realized his back was against the table when Matthew pulled away.

The scarf hung between them, a connection of sorts, in between where their naked flesh touched, the heat passing in between, to fend of the cold of the room.

"You're very aggressive da?"

Matthews violet eyes were dark with lust, as he smirked, "Just because I don't flaunt it don't mean I don't got it… and plus, you look as if you could seriously use some relaxing."

The last words were more murmured, as he moved his mouth down to Ivan's neck and planted a kiss just by his jaw line.

"Relaxing?"

In response, Matvey's tongue brushed out, licking and sucking along Ivan's neck, until he found a particularly sensitive spot that caused Ivan to forget his own question in favour of the pleasure.

Fingers moved across Ivan's chest, lightly brushing, feeling the scars from years of conflict, each movement slow as if trying to memorize, read the story. His thumb brushed up against Ivan's left nipple, causing another shudder to pass through the Russian, the soft touches a new and unexplored feeling. Mouth moving down he licked against the Russians collarbone, following along the ridge of a white scar; the trail of saliva turning cold as it hit the air.

Teeth bit into his right nipple causing Ivan's eyes to fly open.

"Nngyaah – vat are you doing?"

"Getting a better taste eh."

The Canadian's tongue swirled around the abused nipple.

In response, the Russian reached around, his hand firmly grasping the Canadian's ass in a warning.

"Don't be too playful da?"

"Why ever not? I am promising to relax you eh?" the response came as Matthew nipped at the left nipple.

Ivans hand circled up near the anus, "Relax me da?"

With no lube, he began to shove in, causing Matthew to tense up.

"What are you doing?"

"Preparing the hole for relaxing."

Ivan replied, his violet eyes taking on a wicked glint. In response, the Canadian grabbed the offending hand, and pulled it away from him.

"No lube is bad manners eh?"

With surprising strength that took Ivan off guard, the Canadian then grabbed the other wrist and brought them before him.

"What do you mean?"

"Mean?" Matthew sat there stunned, "I mean, you have, uhm." His face went red, as he tried to form the question, his grip on Ivan's wrists loosening a bit. "You've had sex before right? I mean with… men."

A confused look passed over Ivan's face at the question, "Da. Of course. What else is there for expanding relations?"

Understanding seemed to dawn across Matthews face, he gripped Ivan's wrists more firmly in one hand, before removing the scarf from around his neck. No wonder Ivan's underlings looked terrified whenever the large Russian came towards them. With Ivan's size, with no lubricant, sex would be terrifying, and painful.

"Vhat are you doing?"

"Restraining you." Matthew replied as he finished trying Ivan's wrists together with the scarf. "And teaching you why your sex has always not worked out."

"How do you know?"

Ivan asked, extremely curious on why the Canadian would even say that.

"Hmm from what you just did and your clueless nature on why its wrong…"

His hand slipped down and wrapped firmly around Ivan's cock, giving it a few strokes.

"But don't worry. You will feel much, much better."

Ivan could feel his sanity going, feel the uncertainty disappear. He knew he could break the tie with the scarf anytime he wanted, but he was curious on what this nation was going to do to him. Plus, his cock was informing him that it was very pleased at the moment with the unexpected attention. Matthews mouth moved down, until he touched the tip of Ivan's cock.

His tongue swiped out and licked at the pre-cum, tasting it then as if approving, taking the tip entirely into his mouth.

"Aaah Matvey~"

With a pop he released the glistening cock before shifting away and grabbing the lubricant.

Pouring some onto his hand he let it warm up before rubbing his fingers against Ivan's entrance.

"Relax eh?" He murmured as he returned to sucking Ivan's cock.

Ivan wasn't sure what to do, the mouth on his cock was heavenly but the fingers by his ass were… concerning. He had never been invaded that way, and when he felt the finger press up, he tensed. However a firm suck caused his thoughts to rocket out of control allowing the finger to slip in past the barrier. The finger pushed in deep, wriggling around exploring, allowing Ivan to get used to it, the lubricant making things way easier. Ivan didn't even feel the second finger enter, as Matthew decided to deep throat him right at that moment, hell, he didn't even notice the third finger enter with the throat acrobatics Matthew was pulling.

He however did very much notice them when Matthew pulled away.

The fingers were removed, and Ivan watched as Matthew poured lubricant on his cock, leered as Matthew rubbed himself, his cock seeming to pulse with each touch.

When he was finally satisfied, Matthew positioned himself, his cock rubbing against Ivan's crack in a teasing manner. Grasping Ivan's bound wrists, Matthew held them over the Russian's head, pinning them to the table, as he lent forward, merging their lips into a kiss. With his other hand, Matthew made sure he was lined up before slowly pushing his thick cock into Ivan's entrance.

He could feel the larger man begin to struggle, however he continued to push in, until he was halfway in. With his now free hand, he began to stroke Ivan's cock, making the man relax, get used to the intrusive feeling.

After a moment, he swiftly shoved the rest of his cock in, feeling his balls give a smack against Ivan's ass, stilling from the pleasure. God who would have thought that the huge Russian would be so _tight_. So fucking welcoming, he should have fucking done this ages ago. And as he pulled away from the kiss, the flushed glazed look on the Russian's face was so erotic.

Dieu! He would have never thought that Ivan would be so sexy, so accepting and so awesome as a bottom.

Kissing Ivan's neck, he focused on one spot, knowing that there would be a very visible hickey later, but hey, the man always wore that scarf, so it shouldn't be a problem, eh?

The Russian was muttering some curses in Russian, until there was a firm English word.

"Move."

Obediently, Matthew moved. A slow extended pull, his cock nearly coming out of Ivan's ass, before languidly shoving itself back in. His grip on Ivan's wrists loosened, he was too fucking into the amazing feeling around his cock to even notice when Ivan's hands slipped out of the scarf tie, to cling to his back.

Blunt fingernails drove themselves into his back as he thrust in and out, his pace slow, mind numbingly slow, causing Ivan to utter more and more expletives in Russian.

"Faster!"

Matthew was only too willing to oblige, realizing that Ivan was out of his grip, he managed to use his hands to push Ivan's legs up and hooking them over his shoulder, revealing the Russians vital regions entirely to his view. The thick red weeping cock, neglected rested against the Russian's stomach and Matthew nearly came prematurely from the intoxicating site of his cock entering the Russians asshole.

Instead he focused his energy in fucking the Russian hard, the slap of skin upon skin filling up the conference room, the Russian's loud moans mingling with the Canadians.

"T-touch yourself." Matthew managed to grit out, "Fucking cum."

He felt one of the clinging hands move from his back, and he watched as the larger man began to stroke his cock in time with the thrusts. Shifting position, Ivan let out a loud shout, his prostate being hit sending every nerve in his body into fireworks, before he came, his semen spurting out across his belly, some even falling onto the table and the mess of clothes underneath him.

The tight hole pulsed around Matthews cock, pulling and sucking, and he found himself coming soon after, not bothering to pull out, filling the larger nation up with his seed.

Exhausted, Matthew collapsed on top of the Russian, the sticky seed connecting their bodies together, his flushed face resting in the nook of Ivan's neck.

Gathering breathe, Ivan felt disconcerted when the Canadian reached over, and rummaged around on the mess of clothes around them, before he pulled out a rather sleek looking telephone.

Curious, he watched as Matthew aimed it towards them, and quickly pushed a few buttons.

A 'click', and a picture appeared of their flushed faces together on the table.

"What?" Ivan asked, too tired to even bother asking a full question.

Pressing save, Matthew hummed, "Nothing much eh." Before sliding his phone back into his pants pocket. A soft kiss was planted upon Ivans cheek, before Matthew pulled himself away, viewing the carnage so to say.

Ivan's eyes traced the Canadian's lithe body, the semen gleaming on his stomach, as if unaware of how attractive he really was.

"Shit no tissue…" Matthew frowned, as he looked about, before with a sigh, grabbing his white shirt and started to wipe Ivan.

"Just have to button my jacket up." Was the mutter to Ivan's silent question.

The shirt wiped across Ivan's torso, before following down and seemingly caressed his ass, before moving up against Matthew himself, before with little care the Canadian put the soiled crumpled shirt on. Ivan lazily watched as Matthew stood up, the shirt hanging halfway down his ass, before the Canadian nudged the Russians side with his foot,

"You're on my pants please move."

"Нет," Came the reply.

Narrowing his eyes, Matthew squatted by Ivan's ass, and taking an extra long look at the indolently exposed hole, that still had some cum coming out, despite his hasty wipe down.

Giving it a prod, the Russian shuddered, making no sound. Soft violet eyes looked up towards Ivan.

"Was I too rough for you? You're not hurting too bad are you?"

An unfamiliar warmth seemed to settle into the pit of Ivan's stomach, before he shook his head.

"I'm fine."

To prove it, he sat up, barely containing his wince. Damn, he hadn't really thought about it during, but they really had been rough, and Matthew was pretty large. Calloused hands were on him, helping him sit up, an arm had somehow wrapped around his waist, the smaller nation leaning in close to Ivan for support.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so rough, I got carried away," came the accompanying mutters, the soft breath washing across Ivan's bare neck.

It amused Ivan how the confident sex machine of before turned into the easily recognized apologetic Canadian he remembered, and the look of absolute contriteness reminded him that this was definitely not Alfred.

"Shut up da? I've had worse injury."

The Canadian shut up, however he still seemed to be intensely apologizing with his eyes, as he helped Ivan slide off the table, and stand. The arm hadn't removed from around his middle once, and Ivan found the closeness strange, no one had ever stuck around him after the act – well, not willingly, and no one had ever willingly wrapped an arm around his middle and treated him as if he might break at any moment from a little pain. Usually when he got injured he would be alone, tending his own injuries, or General Winter would drop by and visit, but Ivan never appreciated the visits by the cold General.

He would rather be alone.

"Ohh, we really made a mess…. There's semen on your jacket." Came the moan, "Geez, didn't think this out much…"

"It can rub off." Giggled the Russian, "You worry too much over little things that don't matter."

With a frown, Matthew turned his gaze back up to him, "Then what should I be worrying about?"

"How you inform your brother that you have become one with Russia."

The eyes widened, and the arm regrettable slipped away from his waist, while Matthew grabbed his clothes, and began to finish dressing.

"I haven't."

Ivan narrowed his eyes, before following suit, and dressing himself.

"Then vhat exactly just happened?"

It was interesting to watch as Matthew dressed himself, each item of clothing seeming to make him disappear, as if the moment his gloriously naked body disappeared he became someone of little consequence. The Canadian climbed back onto the table, before grabbing the lube, and reached up towards the air duct. He mumbled something inaudible as he pulled his glasses out and pushed the lube back in before closing the duct with a clang. The transformation seemed to complete itself as he slid the glasses onto his face, hiding the vibrancy of his eyes.

"I will not allow you off that table until you answer me." Ivan growled out, the dark aura surrounding him.

"Maple…" Came the muttered curse, before, taking a deep breath, Matthew answered, "Russia, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but today was just a one off eh? I have no intention of becoming one with anybody."

"One off?"

"Yeah.." Mathews boot rubbed against the polished table surface, as if gearing up to run, "One off. An unintended side effect of getting angry eh?"

Ivan stared at him, noticing that informal names had been dropped entirely, and that despite his dire warning, Canada was inching backwards away from him to the other side of the table.

"What if I don't capitulate to your claim?" Came the dark question.

He watched as the inching backward stopped, and a surprisingly scathing look was shot at him.

"I fucking beat you up eh."

It was a moment of letting the mask drop, where Canada seemed to reveal that beneath the apologizing and inching away and acting as if he was mortally terrified of Russia, that he was not sorry at all, and he was only putting on some show to ensure a quick and easy escape. Ivan found himself liking it.

Remembering the surprising strength from their sex, Ivan finally gave a nod.

"Fine."

Instead of getting off on the opposite side of the table as expected, Matthew walked towards Ivan before climbing off the table. Giving the larger nation a thump on the back, Matthew smiled up.

"Good that's sorted, you should drop by some time to have some pancakes and maple syrup eh?"

Not waiting for a response – indeed he would have had to wait a couple minutes due to the amount of shock Ivan felt – Matthew left the room, seeming to disappear before he even hit the door.

Xxxxxxxxx

**AN:** I would also like to thank daedricgurl for pushing me to actually finish. Glad this is all over with, don't expect anyone would want a second part of this mess.


	2. Crocodile Tears

NoticedChapter Two – Crocodile Tears

**Author:** Queen Celestia

**Betareader:** daedricgurl

**Warnings:** Canadian weather humour, sex

**AN: **Didn't realize this story would be so popular. Here is a present for you guys. Hope it lives up to your mad dreams…  
Yes, there is quite literally vodka made from the tail ends of maple syrup. And sure there may be a party in Sweden's pants but thinking out how he speaks is a killer.

Characters prob OOC I wasn't sure on Denmark exactly, he seems to be the 'have lots of fun be a bully' type from what I can tell.

**Note: **Twenty as in Twenty Celsius. Too lazy to go figure out archaic Fahrenheit system.

Xxxxxxx

Russia had a problem.

Not that he would admit it.

Hell, even vodka couldn't entirely wipe out the sweat, the pain, the absolute fucking pleasure of the invasion, the soft look, the contented sighs, the being treated like a fucking somebody for once instead of a fucking monster. The last person who had treated him like a somebody had been Ukraine, until she had turned her back on him entirely.

Hell even his scarf was ruined. The fond memory of Ukraine giving it to him had been completely taken over by the smell of sex, the sweat, the splashes of semen that had somehow made it onto it. His dirty scarf that still smelt like _him_, that he wrapped tightly around his face pretending it was cold, so as to not receive strange looks.

He was avoiding strange looks entirely, especially since the time Belarus had caught him drinking maple vodka.

After her scrutinizing stare, he had been able to explain away wanting to try various types of vodka, and that this one had interested him. She seemed to have bought it. However, whenever he wanted the strange taste of maple vodka, he had to drink it in secret, ever fearful that she would suspect anything more.

His problem would also explain why he felt such a big let down at this years Arctic Meeting, that was being held at Canada's house. He expected to see the powerful sex machine, not the quivering man clutching a polar bear, softly greeting the group at the beginning of the meeting.

America seemed to be trying very hard not to take charge of the meeting, while the other countries were attempting to be polite and listen to the quiet voice. Hell, Ivan half expected the Canadian to disappear from view completely at any moment.

Had that strange day on the table been a fantasy of sorts? Had he drunk too much vodka and had a vivid hallucination? Had the maple vodka begun to rot his brain?

The usual agenda, talking about preserving the arctic, the peoples rights, who owned what, blah blah blah.

"I've got a suggestion," Denmark burst out, after the agenda had been read.

"W-what would that be?"

Canada asked, as he set the paper down, and turned politely to the speaking nation.

"Why don't you fucking get green?"

"Eh?"

"I know you, boning on about your oil sands, if you want to fucking preserve the arctic why do you keep refusing Germany's and my proposals for things like wind energy? So behind the times, not even following along to the Kyoto Accord-"

"Hey! This isn't a meeting to team up on Mattie!" Alfred burst in.

Alfred's comment seemed to only aggravate Denmark, as he snorted.

"So says the country who didn't even bother signing the Kyoto Accord."

The other countries watched, whilst a fight of words broke out between America and Denmark, Canada just watching, before in his timid voice trying to calm the two down.

"Ano, I think we are off topic now," the soft voice kept repeating.

Finally, seeming to take pity on the nation, Sweden spoke up.

"Nuff said. W're not h're ta f'ght."

"Su-sans right." Finland chimed in. "We need to follow the agenda, we don't have time to fight."

It grated on Ivan's nerves at the thankful look Canada shot the other nations, before the meeting got back on track.

By the time lunch rolled around, Ivan was convinced that what happened at the G8 meeting had been a hallucination. The more he logically thought about it, the more he decided that no one would ever be considerate of him in that way, or even want to invite him to their house.

No one ever invited him to their house, except that one time Yao did, but…

No one had invited him of their own accord.

"You really should get green!"

Denmark's threatening tones caught Ivan's attention, and he looked over into a small room, that had Canada being cornered by the other nation.

"I try – but I can't help who my people vote for!"

Came the soft response, however, Denmark didn't seem to be listening, as he drew himself up, his manner threatening.

"You seem to be too concerned about your economy! What will happen to the arctic if it all melts away!"

"I try, I even had one party propose the carbon tax plan you use but the people didn't like it!"

Came the soft rebuttal, but it seemed as if the words seemed to fall upon deaf ears, as Denmark leaned in, his eyes narrowing.

"I think you don't even deserve any claim to Hans Island. I think you should just give it up."

His hand reached out, his thumb brushing against Matthew's cheek, the other nation trembling.

"It would be so easy to just take if from you, you wouldn't put up much of a fight."

Ivan watched with amazement, as Matthews eyes easily filled with tears, causing Denmark to grin even more evilly.

"Crying over a simple little threat? Ohh boy, this looks like fun."

Purple eyes slid away from Denmark's face, and connected with Ivan's, the frightened look replaced by tiredness, before returning to the man before him. A jolt seemed to start from that connection, and Ivan felt himself moving before he could think.

"What is this?" His Russian accent seemed to be thicker at the sudden anger he felt, that Denmark would even think it a good idea to corner the nation privately, threaten him so openly.

Jumping as if he had just been hit, Denmark cast a wary look over to the large nation.

"Russia… I didn't realize you were here… me and Mattie were just having a nice talk about going greener! Right?"

Denmarks easy smile seemed to erase the grin of a moment ago, and Matthew warily nodded.

"Well I guess it's time to eat… see you around Mattie!"

With a wave Denmark disappeared out of the room, shooting a worried look over towards Ivan.

"Thanks."

Ivan turned his attention fully to the Canadian, who bent down, and picked up his polar bear.

"No problem, but you shouldn't allow yourself to be bullied like that."

Came the response. Now that he looked closer, the Canadian looked very tired, however when those purple eyes connected with his, Ivan felt that strange tingle in the gut of his stomach; eyes that seemed to hold some hidden meaning.

"It's easier that way. Means they leave me alone most of the time. Denmark will just go home and grumble about things, but mostly forget until the next meeting we have together. Plus I can't really defend myself, when part of me agrees."

The way he stated it so matter of fact, made Ivan feel bad, and he watched helplessly as the Canadian slipped out of the room. What was he supposed to say? The way the man slipped past him, it certainly seemed as if he had imagined what had happened at the G8 meeting, not even a coy glance or a passing word.

Following the man out, he watched with some interested as the Canadian ran into Norway and started up a conversation, actually getting some sort of response. Since when were Canada and Norway best friends?

That strange feeling around his chest started up again, and Ivan decided to ignore it, leave them alone, ignore the pain he felt at being pretty much ignored by the nation he had been entirely obsessed with. He shouldn't even be surprised, this was what always happened.

Lunch passed by after a couple bottles of vodka, and the resumed meeting seemed to be going as expected. Matthews voice seemed to be a bit firmer, and they did manage to get somewhere with something, but Ivan really didn't care, all he could do was stare at the Canadian, feeling confused and angry.

When the meeting wrapped up, Ivan watched as Alfred seemed to forget entirely why he was there, and exit the room grumbling about needing a milkshake, the other countries also clumped up and away from him, only Finland casting a shy smile, before exiting. He turned his attention over to Matthew, who had stayed behind to clear the room up.

It took a moment for the Canadian to realize he was being stared at, but when he did, he looked up, and shot a soft smile towards the larger man. That strange squeezing feeling around his heart was back again, and Ivan found himself smiling back.

"Is there anything you need?"

The silence hung between them, before Ivan shook his head, "Nothing, da."

He left the room, feeling the puzzled look shot at him. What had he been expecting? That offer to eat pancakes and maple syrup to actually be good?

Disturbed, he went to the room he was staying at, and decided to lock himself in with a couple bottles of vodka.

He was well onto his way into a nice buzz, when he heard the room next to his open up, and then close. Nothing too exciting, however he couldn't remember who had been placed beside him from the schedule. No one ever wanted to be by him if they could help it. Reaching over, he grabbed the schedule and noted with surprise, that the only room next to his was Matthews.

Matthew had made the room arrangements so that meant… He heard the door open again, and he quickly got onto his feet.

Opening his door, his eyes widened as he took in the retreating Canadians outfit.

A tight red shirt, that showed the light skin of his back, and no doubt belly, ripped tight blue jeans, and his hair pulled back?

Where ever could he be going like that?

Closing the door quietly behind him, Ivan followed the Canadian into the warm May evening, the setting sun sending dark shadows across the city.

The walking was brisk, and he watched with interest as Matthew turned down what looked like an alley, and entered a place with a small door, that had bouncers outside.

A night club?

He eyed the title of the club –The Toolbox- before looking at the small rainbow flag plastered on the door. The bouncers were eyeing Ivan with some suspicion, probably from just standing there, or the scarf he insisted on wearing despite the warm weather. He had left his jacket back in his room, but that didn't matter, he wasn't worried about freak snowstorms with how warm it was.

Making sure he had his wallet, Ivan made his way into the club, giving a nod, to the shorter bouncer, before going down the stairs into the dark mouth. Strobe lights, thumping music, and body sweat assaulted Ivan's senses, before the loincloth clad dancing bartender assaulted his vision.

"Hey sweetie, what would you like to drink?" the bartender asked in a heavy Iranian accent, his dark eyes drinking in the Russian.

"Vodka," came the automatic response.

"Fabulous!" the bar tender butt waggled his way towards the vodka, while Ivan attempted to get used to the lighting of the room to see where Matthew had gone.

Under the lights, in the middle of the floor, his eyes fell upon the writhing man, apparently the center of attention. Outrageously flirting with everyone around him, his dancing frantic, his hair falling out of the hair tie, in long silky strands. Matthew hadn't been there long enough to work up a full sweat, but from the light glisten on his forehead, Ivan knew that it wouldn't be long.

"Here."

"Thanks." The Russian picked up the glass of vodka, and drank it, watching with narrowed eyes as a dark haired native male slithered up to the blond, his hands starting to reach and touch without being rejected.

"He's dreamy isn't he?"

"Hm?" Ivan grunted, not bothering to look at the bartender.

"That blond on the floor, you're staring a hole right through him. I wouldn't set your heart on him if I were you though."

"Why not?" the question slipped out, and Ivan half wondered where it came from.

"Honey, if you clutch that glass any tighter you're going to break it."

Ivan set it firmly down on the counter, his purple eyes meeting the dark brown, "Why should I not watch him?"

"Well, he's notorious here, that's all. Good for a one night stand not much else… I'd love to get into his pants. Everyone pretty much has a small crush on him, and from the rumours he's very good in bed."

"Rumours?"

"Mmhmm he's our resident man whore. But I wouldn't count on your luck tonight, seems he's got some interest in Ben. They look pretty intense."

Ivan looked over, to see Matthews arms draped lazily over the larger mans shoulders, their bodies grinding close together in time to the music.

"Does he ever get in trouble?"

"No. Well once, but don't be fooled by that boy. That honey can take care of himself."

Ivan barely heard the reply, as he pushed himself away from the bar, feeling a crushing pain in his chest as he pushed his way through the mob of sweaty partially dressed men.

"Heeeey~ Watch out~"

"Hey baby, mind dancing with me?"

Hands reached out, some more flirtatious than others, as he felt his ass groped, and even, his crotch.

But Ivan ignored, continuing to plow through, until he stood behind the dark man, and managed to say.

"I can interrupt da?"

Violet eyes popped open, and looked at him in clear shock, while the man – Ben, replied, "No honey, go get yourself someone different this one is taken."

Matthew must have noticed the dangerous glint in the Russians eye, as he pulled away out of Bens grasp.

"Matty?"

The tension between the three was thick, as the blond glanced guiltily between the two, before turning sincerely apologetic eyes upon Ben.

"I'm sorry Ben," he took Bens hand in two of his, and held it up to his lips, "My friend here is someone I haven't seen for awhile. Perhaps we shall continue later oui?"

A pout from the native, before a rolling of the eyes and an expelled.

"Alriiight. Let me go so we can stop clogging up the floor and dance."

The hand slid out of Matthews grasp, and in a moment the other man was gone, leaving Matthew alone with Ivan.

Bodies crushed in on either side, forcing them close together, and, with a muttered 'sorry' Matthew put his hands up against Ivans chest, and began to get back into time with the music.

Taking the hint, Ivan awkwardly began to get into the music, but was still too angry to fully relax into the Canadian's sway.

Pounding music made it impossible for Matthew to state his question, so he slowly began to manoeuvre them out of the dancing mass, before slipping off to the side away from the dance floor, to a small unoccupied table.

"What are you doing here Ivan?" His hand had unconsciously slipped into the larger hand, pulling the Russian along.

A moment, before the hand slipped out, laid flat against the table.

"I followed you." Ivan shot dirty glances to those clearly checking Matthew out, hoping it was enough to wither any sort of desire.

"Oh? I didn't know you liked these kinds of places."

"We have these in Russia of course. But not so… open."

"Mmm I guess so." Matthews eyes were drifting across the crowd, as if looking for his next meal.

"What do you want? Or are you here just to pull like me?"

"That bartender said you were a man whore."

"Felice? Yeah, about right. Can't exactly have long term relationships, can we?" A bitter remark.

A stinging slice into Ivan's obsession.

Eyeing the lithe form in front of him, and wanting to get out of the dangerous bar, where too many men seemed to be taking an interest in Matthew. Ivan leaned closer to the Canadian, laying on his accent thick.

"Let's skip the searching and just pull each other da?"

Startled violet eyes, a quick snap of the head, lips breathless inches from each other.

"Wha?"

Possessively, Ivan's hands moved, rested on the hips of the Canadian, as he said, louder.

"Just go back to the hotel, we work well together. No need to fuss with these."

A moment where eyes locked together, and Ivan wondered for an insane moment if the Canadian would just reject him.

Instead, a half smile, the eyes glittering with something that Ivan only half remembered from his fantasies.

"Sure, whatever you say eh?"

Exiting the club, Ivan shivered at the sudden coolness of the night air wrapping around them, before his eyes widened in surprise as a fine white snowflake flew before his eyes.

Matthew seemed unfazed, as he rubbed his arms, and looked up at the sky in a long suffering manner.

"Vot is this? It was twenty when we came in."

Matthew smiled, "This is Canada eh. Never be surprised when a snowstorm appears."

Matthews hand reached down and took Ivan's, giving it a squeeze.

"Let's get back to the hotel so we don't get caught up in it."

Quick scurrying along sidewalks, the wind blowing against their shivering forms, dancing from one puddle of light to the next, intoxication of lust and excitement thrumming through their bodies, passing through their connected fingers.

The hotel lobby, nearly empty, only getting the curious look from Iceland, before jogging down the hall towards a room. Being pushed against the door, sharing a brief kiss, before Ivan unlocked the door, opening it with a squirming Canadian trying to free himself from the larger Russians body and the cold unforgiving door.

A click as the door locked behind them, as frantic hands quickly removed offending articles of clothing, a hungry Canadian ready to feast on an equally hungry Russian.

Ivan barely had time to remove his pants, before he was tackled to the bed, Matthews lips firmly placed against his, moving against his chest, caressing and touching.

Hell, Ivan hadn't even time to properly remove his scarf, except from the way Matthew was biting his lower lip, he figured it wasn't that big of a problem.

The younger nations penis pressed hotly against his bare stomach, the precum rubbing and creating a sticky mess.

"Do you have lube or something?" came Matthews light growl, as he rubbed against Ivan.

"No," came the response, Ivan hadn't actually thought that far ahead.

"Fuck – no wait."

Matthews body heat quickly left him, and Ivan watched the mans slender hips as he quickly entered the bathroom, before coming out with the small bottle of complementary lotion.

"This'll do."

The Canadian's cock bounced with each step he took, his stride fast, before crawling onto the bed with the Russian.

Ivan had sat up slightly, before moving to take off his scarf.

"Don't."

Came the sharp command, making Ivan pause mid way.

"Keep it on…" Flushed cheeks, as if this was the worst part of what they were about to do.

"I like it."

"Ok." Ivan watched, while Matthew sat there awkwardly, the bottle rolling about in his hands, wondering why the man had suddenly stopped.

Looking a little to the side, seeming to focus on Ivan's knee, the pink cheeked Canadian murmured, "So uhm… do you wanna top or something?"

What the –

Noticing the silence, Matthew glanced over to Ivan, getting the blank stare.

"I mean I know last time I like uhm, top, but I mean, you could-"

Ivan didn't know what to do, inwardly he panicked for a moment, before a small smile crossed his face, at the open offer.

"Sure, I'll top."

"Ok."

As if that question resolved all awkwardness between them, Matthew opened the bottle and poured some cream onto his hand.

Curious, Ivan watched as the other man lay back on the bed, and spread his legs revealing his bare puckered hole to him.

Violet eyes looked over to him before, with a grunt, a well lotioned finger rubbed against his pucker.

Was he- Ivan swallowed as he watched the Canadian begin to finger himself, the index finger going in first, the resistance clear, before with a shove, being swallowed.

With his other hand, Matthew gripped his weeping cock, gently pulling, giving slight moans of pleasure, before slipping in another finger, gently stretching.

Shifting, Ivan sat up more, his back against the head board, eyes enthralled with the Canadian. He didn't know where to look, at the delicious pucker being filled by two fingers, the dripping erect cock, or the flushed face, slightly scrunched up in concentration, glasses slipping down the bridge of the nose.

Idly, he began to stroke himself whilst watching, his hold getting stronger the moment the third finger slipped in.

Watching as the hole widened, the three fingers thrusting in and out, made Ivan want to come right there, but he managed to hold back.

With a pop, the fingers pulled out, before with a grunt, the panting Canadian fully sat up again, eyeing Ivan's dick with hunger.

Crawling over to the Russian, Matthew placed a soft kiss upon the knuckles of the hand Ivan was using to stroke his cock, before a sly tongue poked out, and licked, brushing over the knuckles onto the cock.

"Let go." A soft murmur, one that brooked no argument.

Releasing, Ivan settled his hand into the blond wavy hair, the soft strands easily falling between his fingers, whilst a talented mouth engulfed him.

Soft lips brushed against his skin, before a wet heat swallowed, the tongue pressing and plying, lathering saliva on him, before, with a soft pop, his cock was released, glistening strands of saliva connecting the sinful mouth and aching penis.

A tilt of the head, warm violet eyes looking up at him, a soft smile on his lips, before moving out of Ivans grasp, strands of hair softly brushing against his fingers.

He watched, as Matthew leant forward, connecting their lips, before firm hands settled on his shoulders, using them as leverage as he lifted himself and straddled Ivans waist.

"This way's ok yeah?" a soft murmur, not totally a question, as a hand went back and grasped Ivan's cock, placing the blunt weeping head against the prepared hole.

Sweet softness, tight around him, the cock stretching and filling, as Matthew lets Ivan enter him.

Face twisted in pain from the stretching, Ivan can't take his eyes away from the expression especially when the eyes open shining with something he hadn't seen in a long time.

Trust.

Finally, after a seemingly tortuously long time, Ivan is fully engulfed in Matthew, the Canadian's soft ass resting on his slightly raised legs, forehead going and resting against the crook of his neck, heavy breaths filling the room.

"Nngggg, fucking big," a whine.

Ivan had never been in this situation before, he doesn't know where to put his hands.

Hesitantly, hoping that the Canadian doesn't notice the pause, he places his hands on the Canadian's waist, feeling soft skin, usually hidden to the world.

When Matthews breaths finally calmed down, he finally begins to move.

A slow lift, before falling, the smooth friction causing Ivan's thoughts to swirl and break apart like fractioned puzzle pieces.

Matthew stops again, resting, before taking the ends of Ivans scarf, and resting them over his own shoulders, like a strange cloth connection.

Noticing the stare, Matthew smiles, before replying, "I like it."

And then he starts to move again, slow, but gaining speed, soft moans coming out, as he gets filled over and over again, Ivan unable to take it – so long since he had actually done this, filled anyone up, especially someone who was so willing.

A cry, and he comes, embarrassingly fast, but he doesn't give a fuck, as the tight heat milks him, his cum filling up the Canadian's ass.

The hot cock pressing against his stomach informs him that his partner has not come.

And for a brief instant, he feels something he's not used to – concern.

"You haven't completed." Ivan states, his violet eyes looking at the resting Canadian, whose ass is still fully engulfing him.

"Don't worry eh." Comes the pant, before, with a groan, Matthew hoists himself out of Ivans lap, the thick cum dribbling down his inner thigh.

"What are you doing?"

Devilish purple eyes look to him, as the Canadian sits beside him, hand searching for the cream.

"I'm gonna fuck you." An easy response, "To be honest I've been wanting to do it all day."

"What?" The words take Ivan aback, the Canadian certainly hasn't acted like he was ready to fuck all day.

A light flush, as the hand grabs the cream, opens it up, eyes that don't quite meet his.

"Yeah."

"You didn't seem to."

Fingers are once again coated in the cream, before Matthew moves between Ivans open legs, and presses an exploratory finger against his anus.

"Just cuz I may not be like Francis and act like a rutting animal in heat, doesn't mean I don't think dirty thoughts while presenting things."

The finger goes in, and Ivan tenses up.

"Relax eh? Spent all day wondering how I could get you to agree to fuck."

A soothing hand rests against Ivan's hip, as the finger pushes farther in.

"Then what about the club?"

"Went there to release sexual frustration. Didn't think you'd actually follow me."

Light thrusts of the finger, exploring and rubbing.

"Lucky I did then."

"Mmhmm, this will go a hell of a long way for my dirty daydream collection when Alfred makes his next presentation."

A second finger added in, the discomfort there, but nothing to show a raging pain.

Fingers brush against Ivan's prostate, jolting his cock awake.

Ivan is ashamed to even admit to himself, that when he thought of sex with the Canadian, being submissive was what he really wanted.

Not that he would actually let the Canadian know that, he would just let him continue to think that the whole gentle invasion was his idea.

A third finger added, the discomfort even more, and Ivan tries hard to remember to relax.

The fingers pull out, and Ivan watches as Matthew rubs the cream onto his red weeping erection.

Firm hands settle on his legs, keeping them apart, as the Canadian lines himself up.

"Ready?"

A nod, before the hot cock pushes inside, slowly filling and stretching, before firmly settling in.

Loud breathes fill the room, before Matthew takes one of Ivans strong legs, and lifts it to wrap around his waist.

He then leans forward, and captures Ivans full lips with his, a comforting kiss, waiting until Ivan is comfortable enough to move.

"Move damnit."

A command, one that Matthew gladly accepts, as he pulls out, and then slams back in.

Ivan's loud moan of approval masks the loud smacking of skin, as the pistoning continues.

It doesn't take long for both of them to finish, Ivan coming first, his squeezing body forcing Matthew to come not long after.

Collapsing on top of the larger body, the hot cum squished between them, Matthew attempts to gain some air, his entire body pleasantly jellified.

With a pop, he pulls out, before shifting his body beside Ivan, curling up beside the Russian, his leg splayed lazily over a thick well muscled thigh.

It only takes a moment for Ivan to realize, that the Canadian has fallen completely and deeply asleep beside him.

Xxxxxxxxx

**AN:** There we go. A part two of sorts. Oh, I also have a blog, if you want to follow, see sneak peaks and/or bother me about when the next update is. Since I'm assuming you're all of age, I shouldn't worry about whether or not you can read my posts. Make sure to delete the spaces. : D

http:/ queen-celestia. livejournal. com /


	3. Economic Policy

**NoticedChapter Three –Economic Policy**

**Author:** Queen Celestia

**Betareader:** lividlillies

**Warnings:** Erm sex. Some of it unwanted.

**AN: **If you want to know more about Canadian/American economic policies and the like, I suggest Mel Hurtigs '_The Truth About Canada'_.

Xxxxxxx

The urge to sneeze was what made Ivan wake up. Something was continuously tickling his nose, rubbing it just right there and if he did not rectify the situation right away – he tried to move his arm, but something heavy was resting there, and his eyes popped open with a start.

Where was he, what was going on, and…

His view was a mass of golden hair. Shifting, he managed to take in the scene, a strange one. A very naked Canadian was wrapped around him, leg in between his, arms clamped around him as if he were a giant pillow, head nestled securely under his chin. Ivan could feel a throbbing erection clearly against his thigh, as well as the imprint of the glasses on his skin.

He wasn't sure why he felt calmly amused that the Canadian had forgotten to remove his glasses – so tired that he couldn't even think properly? Must have been, no one would want to wake up next to _him_ in the morning.

Sex was a transaction of body, a relief of tension, before quickly parting ways and acting as if it had never happened.

It wasn't that he hadn't wanted someone to stay, it was the look in their eyes.

The dark hate Toris would look at him with would make him dismiss him from his bedroom after. Ivan wondered what look those violet eyes would hold when they opened. He half wanted the man to forever stay asleep, or at least release his death grip on him so that he could slip away and not have to look at the 'morning after'.

Hopes were dashed, as the eyelashes twitched, and slowly purple eyes opened up, before blearily focusing somewhere on his right shoulder. Sharpening, the eyes slowly roved up before focusing on his face, confusion there, before slowly being cleared.

"Morning." A mumble, before mouth quirked into a smile, "F'rgot to take my glasses off."

The grip loosened, as the Canadian rolled onto his back fully, and stretched, not seeming to care at all that they were both quite naked, or the dried cum on his body. In fact, he eyed his erection, before looking quite blatantly to Ivan's morning glory.

"What time is it?" came the out of the blue question.

Ivan stared, still unsure on what was happening, as he watched the lithe body twist and turn, before leaning over him to stare at the complimentary digital clock on the night table. He watched as a sly grin stole over the Canadians face, before having his attention directed to the pink erect nipple that was in his direct line of vision.

The warm body shifted again, until the Canadian was laying beside him on his side, facing him.

"Come on, face me."

An order. Ivan frowned, he didn't like getting orders, especially so early in the morning.

Cajoling hands flitted to his body, a finger pressing against a slowly hardening nipple, before slipping onto his side, and gently tugging.

"Please?"

With a sigh, indicating that he didn't like the order, Ivan followed it anyways, ignoring the Canadian's soft chuckle.

"What are you planning to do?" Ivan grumbled, shuddering lightly as a hand cupped his ass, and gently attempted to push him closer. When that didn't work, the Canadian scooched himself closer, until their chests met, and their erections rubbed against each other.

"Saying goodmorning," came the murmur, as a kiss was pressed against the rough stubble of Ivan's chin.

A warm hand wrapped around their erections, pressing them together, before the Canadian began to lazily move, his dick rubbing up against Ivan's.

Getting the idea, Ivan began to move, taking a few moments to get the perfect rhythm. It was strange, but pleasant, the rubbing of the two erections, neither in too much of a hurry to cum, or even change what they were doing.

The soft kisses along his jaw line, before the firm kiss on his mouth, Ivan found himself enjoying as well, the entire relaxed early morning atmosphere was something he had not been expecting at all.

"Wrap your hand around our dicks," came the whisper, "Provide more friction."

Deciding he didn't mind this order, Ivan did as told, his larger hand partially covering the Canadian's, as he gripped closer to the base, forcing the Canadian's hand to move a little further up, feeling smaller fingers brushing and teasing against the tip of their frotting dicks.

Squeezing harder, their frotting became more wild, until with a cry, the Canadian came first, with the Russian not long after.

Harsh breathing filled the room, as well as a languid laziness. Hands still entwined, the Canadian rested his forehead against the Russian's cheek, recovering, acting as if they had all the time in the world.

Their cum, hot and sticky, was cooling, and Ivan found he didn't mind the fact that his hand was covered in the stuff, hell, his hand was still covering the Canadian's and some of their fingers were entertwined, something that Ivan found rather strange. It also made a strange feeling heat up in the pit of his stomach, something that had nothing to do with sex.

A loud bang, followed by, the loud shout of "MATTY! HURRY UP!" jolted them, completely ruining any type of glowy after effect. Another loud bang, followed by a crash as the door splintered.

Fortunately for them, they had decided to get off in Ivan's room... however the unnervingly loud swearing from the room beside them was a little too close for comfort.

Looking over to Ivan, whom he had immediately moved away from, Matthew seemed to be apologizing profusely without saying any words, as if paranoid that if he opened his mouth his brother would suddenly gain super hearing and realize that he was just next door.

Quite suddenly the Death March began to play, somewhere in amongst the pile of clothes, and Ivan watched with some amusement as Matthew practically dived onto the ground, and dug out a phone from the jean pocket.

"H-hello?" came the timid greeting.

"MATTHEW!" Alfred was so loud they could hear him in the other room. "Where are you bro? I thought we were supposed to have breakfast together? I'm huuuuuuuuuuungry."

Smiling a little, Matthew gave a shaky laugh, and smoothly lied, "I went for a walk, I'll meet you there in ten minutes, k?"

There was a pause, and then, "Better be there in ten minutes or else I'm starting without you!"

Shutting his phone, Matthew gave a sort of wry shrug to Ivan, continuing to sit on the floor as they heard Alfred leave, his footsteps heavy, down the hallway.

Standing up, completely unselfconscious of his body, Matthew picked up his clothes, before he turned to Ivan. "Can I borrow your shower?"

Giving a nod, Ivan watched Matthew disappear, tempted himself to follow.

But his contemplation was cut sort, for after five minutes Matthew emerged freshly washed and clothed.

Eyes scanning the room, Matthew put on his shoes, before giving Ivan a curt nod and leaving.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"I told you I would start without you."

Matthew sat down across from his brother, eyeing the giant mass of ordered food with some apprehension.

"Is any of this for me?" he asked, smoothing down his white shirt. He was only about three minutes late – being thankful that he had arranged their breakfast to be in the hotels restaurant.

"Course… I mean we can always order more if there isn't enough." Came his brothers semi reasonable reply.

Taking the plate of waffles, Matthew drizzled a small portion with syrup, his nose crinkling up in slight distaste as he realized it was the cheap butter flavoured syrup. Geh!

Bending over to his suitcase, Matthew popped it open and took out a small bottle of Apricot Syrup. Closing his suitcase, he sat up again, before pouring the syrup over his waffles –

"OH MY GOD." Alfred shouted, causing the Canadian to jump in his seat slightly.

"Eh?"

"Did you just take syrup out of your suitcase?" Alfred snatched the syrup out of Matthews hand, his eyes widening, "And.. this isn't Maple?"

Matthew scowled, "You take hamburgers out of your pocket – and whats wrong with Apricot syrup?"

"But…" Alfred frowned suspiciously across at his brother, "You always use maple syrup. Hey… are you really Matty?"

Giving a sigh, Matthew replied, "I do eat other syrup – Apricot is quite delicious. And yes I really am your brother, do you want me to state aloud some embarrassing stories involving a certain pink dress?"

Flushing, Alfred put the syrup down, "No…"

Smirking slightly, Matthew grabbed the syrup back and put the rest onto his pancakes. "You sure?"

"Yeah..." Clearing his throat slightly, Alfred changed the topic. "So how long do you think todays meeting will last?" He asked, however, due to his mouth being full of food, it sounded more like. "hsfmhn infon sfger mggnt?" or something like that.

Due to years of experience, Matthew understood the question perfectly and replied, "There are about four more speakers, so probably until four."

Alfred made a pained expression, which clearly indicated his disapproval on the matter.

"It's not that bad," Matthew chided, "After today the meetings will be over."

"Oh yeah!" Alfred quickly swallowed, and he seemed to squirm in his seat in excitement, "I picked up some awesome horror movies, and I was hoping, since I'm staying tonight, that we could hang out in your room and watch them together! You're not busy right?"

The look Alfred gave him clearly indicated that Alfred didn't think Matthew was busy at all, which, quite honestly, was true.

"Uhmmm sure." To be honest Matthew wanted to begin lecturing Alfred on the fact he had broken the door open – something which gave him many odd looks when he mentioned it at the front desk, and which he had a creeping feeling the hotel manager wanted to talk to him about – but knew he couldn't bring it up quite yet due to him not wanting to admit, _ever_, that he had just fucked Russia.

The less Alfred knew about his sex life the better. Especially since Alfred seemed to be under the assumption that Matthew was some sort of virgin saint, preferring martyrdom to letting a clitoris or prostate make their way anywhere near his vital regions. Well… a virgin saint until Alfred said so.

Pushing some waffle into his mouth, Matthew looked over to his brother, and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he noticed that his brother looked a little more serious with a touch of crafty. A look that never bode well for him.

"Also, I was wondering if I could use some of my 30% this morning."

"Eh?" Matthew nearly choked on his waffle, taking a moment, to clear his airway, his face burning a brilliant red as he added in a rather furious whisper, "What do you mean!"

"Well, I'm feeling edgy... Actually I came to your room this morning, cuz I wanted to do it then, but then you were out walking or something? So what about after breakfast?" Alfred looked expectantly at his brother, looking quite as if this were just an everyday matter.

"But I still want to prepare –"

Alfred snorted, "Why else do you think I would get up so early? Come on Matty, pllleaaaase? What's the point of owning so much of your resources if you won't put out now and then?"

"Keep your voice down Alfred!" Matthew hissed, his body trembling with embarrassment.

Alfred looked around the room derisively, "Oh come on, they probably don't know what we mean." His fingers tapped against the table top impatiently, "Are you done yet? I've finished mine."

Matthew stared down at the food on his plate, his appetite suddenly gone. "But I don't want to." Came the whisper.

Leaning in, Alfred's voice was low as he whispered his ace, "If you don't agree I'll just sue your government."

"Wha- you wouldn't –" Matthew replied his heart thudding. Shit.

Alfred smirked, "You know it's legal."

"F-fine. But only if you fix my door, ok?" Matthew replied with some defeat.

"Sure." The American leaned back in his chair, "Hey waiter, cheque please."

Once the cheque was settled, they made their way to Matthews room; unenthusiastically in Matthew's case.

To be honest he was pissed off at the people running his country, had been for a long time. Idiots, who ever thought that signing NAFTA had been a good idea? And that dumb ass law where an American company could sue his government? Holy fuck, he had idiots in power. To be honest he half expected to wake up one day and be informed he had been absorbed somewhere into Alfred's fat backside. Oh joy, the thought of joining the obviously failing idealistic American dream made him giddy with suicidal thoughts.

Reaching his room, Matthew stared at his door.

It had been fixed.

Glancing over to his brother, who looked equally surprised, Matthew said, "Hotel staff must be rather speedy, eh?"

His brother walked up to the door and inspected the work. "Yeah, better for me! Hurry up and open the door, Matty."

"Yeah, yeah," the other pulled the keys out of his pocket, finding it a little odd that when he went to open the door, it was already unlocked.

Entering his room, Matthew quickly scanned it, feeling as if there was still someone there. However he didn't see anyone, and when Alfred didn't mention anything, he decided he was just being a little paranoid.

He turned his eyes to his brother, violet carefully assessing and plotting, as he said, "So how much?"

Alfred shrugged, "Well, I guess a blowie?"

"Alright." Matthew licked his lips, before sitting on the edge of the bed. He removed his glasses, and carefully placed them onto the bedside table. A movement caught his attention, but his vision was blurry, so he figured it was nothing.

Alfred quickly unbuckled his pants, his cock springing out already erect.

Licking his lips, Matthew reached out, and held the cock gently, nuzzling against it. His brother was a bit of a 'wham bam thank you ma'am' type of guy, but now and then, a little touch of foreplay didn't go amiss. Plus, if Matthew tried to rush things, Alfred would notice, and he really did not want to deal with Guantanamo Bay mode.

Flicking his tongue out, he licked the tip of the penis, the precum already collecting in Alfred's apparent excitement.

Matthew wished he could close his eyes, but his brother had this weird ass thing about eye contact, wanting to know for sure that Matthew hadn't gone off into some strange fantasy land, that instead, he knew that Matthew knew he was sucking Grade A American Cock.

Which, of course, meant Matthew learnt to fantasize with his eyes open.

Matthews mind went on automatic, and he found himself thinking about the day's presentation, going over things he needed to mention, and perhaps passively aggressively disagreeing with everything Denmark suggested.

Trying to hide his surprise, so as to not raise suspicion in his brother, Matthew nearly choked as his mouth filled with semen.

Swallowing (for Alfred took pride in proclaiming in having the best jizz in the world and got more irritating if Matthew spat it out), Matthew wiped his mouth, and looked at his brother expectantly.

The look in Alfred's eyes informed Matthew that he wasn't satisfied. Glancing at the still hard cock, Matthew inwardly groaned.

_Fuck my life._

"So… any good?" Matthew timidly asked, attempting his best to become invisible.

"Nawwww… I wanna do it full hog." Alfred replied pushing his pants further down.

"… Anal?" Matthew replied, hoping his brother didn't hear the hitch in his voice. Fuck! Thank goodness he had washed, otherwise he would be seriously fucked, and not the good fucked.

For some reason, Alfred had some delusion that Matthew only had sex with him, and that otherwise, he was an Ice Queen. If Alfred were ever to find out that in reality Matthew was a bit of a man ho… well.

Shit would happen.

"Yeah, course." Alfred replied, "Get in position, we're running low on time."

"…. But… I haven't done it in a while." Matthew lied. It was true. He had skilfully avoided his brother for a good three months now concerning these matters.

"…. I'll sue." Came the response.

Fucking maple on a stick, Matthew thought angrily as he stood up and unbuckled his pants, it was as if Alfred only ever had sex with him!

Carefully removing his pants, he laid them aside. "Don't mess me up, eh."

Reaching into the drawer, Matthew pulled out some lube, something he had put there in hopes of, well... sex with someone more pleasurable.

"Prepared for me?" Alfred asked, the smugness clear in his tone.

Flushing, Matthew nodded, pouring the lube onto his hand.

Walking over to the bed, Matthew looked over to his brother, hoping it was sort of coy, as he inserted his lubed fingers into himself.

It was sort of a good thing he had fucked Russia, came his thought. Since Russia was such a big fucker, he was still rather loose, so preparing himself for Alfred (who was smaller by a long shot), went rather easily.

Once he was sure he was ready, he kneeled on the bed, and then obediently looked over to Alfred.

"I'm ready."

"Awesome!" came the reply, as Alfred crawled onto the bed and positioned himself behind Matthew.

Feeling the cock press up against him, Matthew took a breath as his brother pushed in, and then waited.

"You ok Mattie? You seem sort of tense." Worried hands brushed up against the bare sides, where the shirt had ridden up due to the position.

Releasing his breath, Matthew replied, "I'm fine, Al." To prove it, he pushed back.

"If you're sure…" Alfred seemed to still hold doubt, but, decided to believe his brother and began to fuck him.

Just actions, motions, Matthew thought, keeping his body relaxed, allowing himself to feel pleasure from this. That was another thing about Alfred, he always liked to make sure that Matthew had enjoyed himself.

His brother wasn't that bad, after some practise, he had actually gotten rather good at knowing what got him off.

A hand reached around and grabbed his dick, Matthew involuntarily letting out a groan.

"Yeah, that's right," Alfred panted, "Let it out."

The thrusts shifted and hit Matthews prostate, causing him to fall into the sex entirely, not caring who, what, when or where, as he let himself go, his voice echoing around the room passionately.

Their bodies joined together, Matthew felt himself release, his body clenching tightly around his brothers, causing a chain reaction.

Fluids filled his inside, and he felt his brothers cock withdraw.

With a flump, Alfred fell onto the bed, his breathing heavy.

Careful not to get jizz on his shirt, Matthew sat up, feeling tired.

His brother snorted. "Paranoid about your clothes?" A hand reached out, and teasingly pulled on the dress shirt.

"Fuck off, eh?" Matthew mumbled, as he looked at his dishevelled brother.

"Again so soon Mattie?" Alfred joked, "You're a tiger!"

Flushing, Matthew pulled away from his brothers reach, and stood up.

"I'm going to go clean up, we have our meeting soon." Came the mumble, as he awkwardly waddled to the bathroom, the cum dripping out onto his thigh.

"Alright." Came the sigh, as his brother sat up.

Entering the bathroom, Matthew removed his shirt, feeling a little silly that he had worn it at all, as he climbed into the shower.

Turning the water on, he stepped in, and yet again, thoroughly washed himself.

"Mattie," a voice called into the bathroom, "I gotta get going."

"Oh yeah?" he responded, hoping that the other didn't hear his voice crack, "I'll see you at the meeting, eh?"

"Yeah! Course." Came his brothers too chipper reply.

Matthew stuck his head out of the shower, and he carefully listened until he heard the door close, indicating his brother had left.

Switching the water off, Matthew stepped out onto the bath mat, and wrapped himself in a towel.

His reflection caught his eye, and he let out a sigh.

"Next time I'll tell him…." His voice drifted off, "What though?"

Running his fingers in his damp hair, he felt bleak.

There really was nothing he could do. He couldn't refuse his brother, not with those damn policies in place.

NAFTA hadn't really benefited him at all, it had only caused the money to be restructured into 1% of the population, and even then, the money that did get made was sent out of country.

All those promises, strewn across the floor like broken glass. Sometimes Matthew wondered if Alfred had purposely forced the agreements to go his way, to tie his hands. Force him into submission.

Fuck his life. He was just a joke of a country, wasn't he?

Rubbing his eyes, he took his towel and aggressively began to dry his hair, pretending that the wet of his cheeks was the flicking shower water. But then he let out a sob, something that wouldn't allow him to pretend it was alright to go on like this.

Slowly, he sank against the floor, the cool tiles pressing against his bare skin. He wondered if he was shivering because he was cold or if it was just a slip in self-control.

What a pathetically weak nation he was, to so easily fall into these things, he was thinking.

"Are you alright?"

The question caused Matthew to swear loudly, and drop the towel, wide violet eyes growing in horror as he realized that Ivan had entered the bathroom, pipe in hand.

"Tabernac! Wha-what are you doing here?" came the whispered shout, as he angrily dashed his tears away. No one was supposed to see him like this, it would ruin what little reputation he had.

"I fixed your door, and then you came in with America, so I hid." Came the simple reply as the large Russian crouched down onto the floor beside him. He had a childish look of concern as his gloved hand reached out and held Matthew's wrist, stopping him from brushing away his tears. "Why?"

"Eh?"

"Why would you allow him to do that?" Ivan's curiosity seemed genuine, his confusion displayed clearly across his face.

"Ah uh…" Matthew wasn't sure what to say, as he desperately tried to pull himself together, before mumbling, "I can't.. uh…"

He could feel his words disappearing, as his lower lip trembled, and the tears began again.

Roughly, he felt himself pulled up against the white dress shirt, a large arm wrapping around him.

"Don't worry, just let big brother Russia take care of you, da?" came the calming whisper.

All Matthew could think was that Ivan's body happened to be surprisingly warm, and he felt himself melt in, feeling strangely comforted by the childish man.


	4. Fucking Eh

_Noticed_

**Chapter Four – Fucking Eh**

**Author:** Queen Celestia

**Betareader:** lividlillies

**Warnings:** Plot. Like a massive amount of plot. Wash your hands, grab a snack, maybe grab a pet of your liking to cuddle amount of plot. No porn this chapter sorry.  
**AN: **Lars = Netherlands.

"And that concludes the presentation!" Matthew finished, turning the power point off. Looking around the room, he found himself arrested by Sweden's concerned gaze, he gave a small nervous smile, before sliding his gaze over to a bored looking Denmark. "So uh… Thanks for coming."

The lights switched on, and everyone began to get ready to leave, the chairs scraping across the floor not hiding the murmuring of voices.

Matthew cast a nervous glance over to Alfred, wondering if he could go invisible now and escape his brothers attentions. Maybe he had forgotten? Alfred did have that habit of stating things like showing up 'For that musical you've been raving about Mattie!' only to forget, and leave an angry Canadian standing outside alone. It had happened so much, that Matthew had taken to inviting someone as back up, usually Prussia since he had the most spare time out of his friends.

Alfred was busy discussing something with Sweden, looking vaguely confused as to who exactly he was talking to.

Gathering up his papers, Matthew made his way to the door, nodding and smiling to some of the nations that noticed him, and awkwardly avoiding Russia's gaze. The man had been staring at him the entire meeting, with a rather disconcerting look on his face.

After that embarrassing debacle in the bathroom, Matthew had managed to pull himself together, and kindly rejected Ivans proposal to 'become one' so to say. He wasn't too sure if the Russian had accepted the rejection, and he wasn't up to confronting anyone today, he was tired and just wanted to spend the next three days sleeping cuddled up to Kumajirou.

Slipping out, Matthew let go of the breath he had been holding.

Good, now all he had to do was vanish somewhere, his duties were over.

"Geez, I thought the meeting would last forever," whined a familiar voice, one that caused Matthew to smile.

"Gilbert!" he turned to the man who had detached from the wall, "What are you doing here?"

The man stretched out, giving Matthew the impression of a pretzel untangling itself from it's own limbs, before he casually slung an arm around Matthews shoulders.

"Well, that beer tour got cut short, since my dear brother apparently can't hold his alcohol, and I had to drag him all the way back home, causing some injury to my awesome arms."

Matthew rolled his eyes, knowing that if you changed the roles of the two people in the story you would probably get a lot closer to the truth.

"And then, when he was deposited, I found myself in the house more bored than one of Austria's wives on the honeymoon, and decided that you probably missed me a hella lot so I decided to visit!"

"You sure it had nothing to do with my pancakes?" came the reply.

The Prussian pulled a face, "Well, maaaaaybe."

Gilbert stiffened, before suddenly pulling Matthew into a different hall, and dragging him into a nearby closet.

Eyes wide with confusion, Matthew tried to ask the question silently, only to be met by Gilbert placing a finger against his lips.

Footsteps could be heard, turning down the hall after them as if intentionally following. However they passed by, and they let out a breath.

Matthew realized that Gilbert was holding him rather close, a little awkward. When he attempted to break free, Gilbert's hold got firmer.

"Eh?" he looked over to the man, trying to make out his expression from the light cutting through the darkness from the cracks of the door, that sort of faded into a murky grey turning things to not be clear.

"What's wrong Matty? You were miles away during the meeting."

"You were at the meeting?"

Gilbert snorted, "I was spying obviously."

"Oh." Matthew was glad that the closet was dark, and he wondered if Gilbert had purposely allowed it to be this way. "Well. Uh."

He wasn't sure where to start. So he said the main thing, "Alfred's been wanting his take again."

The hold got tense, "You still letting him?"

Leaning his forehead against Gilberts chest, Matthew sighed, "What else am I supposed to do? My country doesn't have the money to throw around on law suits at the moment and Alfred gets all huffy on my not 'sharing' what's 'his'."

"Maybe if you didn't have such pansy asses in government, this entire situation could have been avoided," Gilbert hissed.

"Oh shut up Gil." Matthew grouched, as he pulled out of the hold, allowing some of his real strength to show. "You know sometimes there are situations that no matter how you try you can't change."

"Well at least I'm not so defeatist about it!" Gilbert replied angrily.

Matthew sighed. He had very few close friends who knew what was actually going on in his life, and he sometimes wondered why out of the entire world, the ex nation of Prussia had become one of them.

"Well you don't have to worry about those types of problems anymore!" Matthew bitingly replied, immediately regretting the words the moment they slipped out of his mouth.

The air in the cupboard was tense, and Matthew opened his mouth to apologize, only to be cut off by the hiss, "Don't you dare apologize when I can't even be sure you actually mean it."

"Gilbert…" Matthew sighed. Sometimes it was hard having a friend that knew you better than yourself. On some level he _wasn't_ sorry he had brought up Gilbert's freedom. At least when he had told Lars, there had been some sort of sympathy (which then ended with them sprawled out in the empty swimming pool in 24 Sussex Drive with empty buckets of ice cream splayed out around them, and being rudely woken up by a screaming cleaning lady unexpectedly walking in on them… probably didn't help that they were both naked, dishevelled, and probably had ended up having sex that neither of them remembered.)

"Well, I don't care if I can't 'relate' to you," Matthew could quite literally see the shadowy hands making the quotation signs, "I can remember! I'm not senile ya know!"

"G-"

Whatever Matthew had to say in response was ended the moment the closet door was flung open, revealing a large shadow. There stood Ivan, looking absolutely delighted at who he had found in the closet, and Matthew felt a little frission of fear at the friendly childish smile on the mans face.

Gilbert was tense, probably thinking of something loudmouth to say, when Ivan beat him.

"Matvey! Gilbert! I thought I heard you. Is there a party happening that I don't know about?" here, Ivan cutely tilted his head to the side, his lips forming a little pout as if he actually believed the words that had just come out of his mouth.

"If there was a party, there would be no way in hell you would ever be invited," Gilbert managed to cuttingly reply, before sending a rather smug grin over to Matthew as if his words were perfectly acceptable.

Matthew sensed, more than saw, the words perfectly hit their mark, and he felt his irritation with Gilbert rise.

Why was everyone always so mean to Russia anyway? Sure he might be a little strange (Here, he could hear Gilbert's voice as if psychically cutting in with 'a _lot_ strange' ), and he might have a very bloody past, but out of all the European and Asian countries, who _didn't_?

Sometimes, when watching the other countries fight during a meeting, Matthew felt as if Ivan was excluded from even that, whenever Ivan managed to speak the other countries seemed to ignore him or shut up, not allowing him to weigh in on their (mostly petty ) arguments.

And now, after a relatively crappy day, where the only person who hadn't pissed him off was getting put down, Matthew could feel his patience with Gilbert disappear. Yes Gilbert was a good friend, but friggin' beaver tails, he was a real ass hole a lot of the time!

Plus, Matthew could still remember the warmth of Ivan, the comforting presence, before the offer of Ivan taking 'care of' him had sort of ruined the moment. (Here Matthew had the vague unease that it had actually been his pride, but he shut that up right away.)  
Plus, Matthew knew that if he accepted Ivan's offer, that he would be hit with a barrage of questions that he did not want to answer.

Questions such as why he had lied about not sleeping with his brother. Why he even had given in, when he so clearly didn't want to.

So instead, he had shoved Ivan aside and quickly finished getting dressed, eyes carefully avoiding, before rushing down to the meeting room.

Avoiding those piercing violet eyes all meeting had been awkward and made him stressed. He was sure his presentation had failed, had sucked or that he had forgotten something important.  
Although he figured that this was one of those days when he would hit the 'all three jackpot'.

Usually, when Alfred had claimed him for a day, Matthews attention was focused on the vivacious blond. Today had been different. When Matthew had been escaping the meeting it wasn't because he was particularly frightened of his brother finding him (the whole thing had become somewhat routine to be honest, and he was usually better at stuffing the feelings of worthlessness down) it was the whole not wanting to face Ivan.

And now, Ivan was standing there, unavoidably in the way, looking at Gilbert with an expression that Matthew pinned as 'sad'.

"Gilbert, you're such an asshole," Matthew found himself saying, surprised as much as the other two were that such words were coming out of his mouth. "Think before you insult people eh."

Gilberts mouth hung open in some surprise, before stuffing his foot even farther into his mouth saying, "But it's _Russia_, no one likes _Russia_."

"I do!" Matthew blurted out, the entire day finally bursting forth, "Just because he's big and a little weird doesn't mean people don't like him!"

As if to prove his point, Matthew took the step forward, and grasped Ivan's limply hanging arm.

"Come on Ivan," came the command, "We're obviously not wanted here."

Ivan stared at Matthew as if wondering when his intrusion had amalgamated him and Matthew into the 'we' party, but decided to go along with it. To be honest, he was a little happy that someone had decided to break the mould, that someone who was not related to him was bothered to even mention the word 'like' at all.

"Wait wait wait!" Gilbert sounded positively panicked at the idea of Matthew going off alone with Ivan, "Where are you going?"

Matthew cast a rather forbidding look to the silver haired man, "Where the polite people are? Or perhaps we'll go back to my room and fuck."

Red eyes narrowed, "Matty, don't you _dare_ take out your French temper tantrum out with Ivan-"

"Temper tantrum? Temper tantrum!" Matthews voice got quieter, before his lips curled up into a smirk, "But why not Gilbert? I've already tried out the goods."

Gilbert looked as if he had been smacked in the face at those words, his lips curling up into a snarl, "You're doing _that_ again as well!"

Matthew smirked, "What? I thought you liked our re-enactment with you as the table."

"I THOUGHT THAT WAS SOME WEIRD FANTASY!" Gilbert shouted.

Matthew fought hard not to face palm, opening his mouth to reply, when another voice joined in the fray.

"Whats this I hear? Weird fantasies? Were there aliens?"

The three turned to look at an over excited Alfred who seemed to exude friendliness, the only thing off putting were the cold blue eyes sending daggers to where Matthew was gripping Ivan's arm.

"Nyet," Ivan was the first to recover from the intrusion, and as if to further anger Alfred, he placed his hand over where Matthew was gripping him, in a rather proprietary manner.

Alfred started forward, as if to rip Ivan away from Matthew, when Gilbert did something rather unexpected.

He punched Alfred in the face.

A stupid move, very chivalrous, but it almost seemed as if the Cold War had come back into play, when he was a lackey of Russia, a strange look passing between the two nations, before Matthew was quickly whisked away from the area by the large Russian, Alfred's loud complaining voice echoing down the hall, not yet noticing that his target had escaped.

When they were a safe distance outside of the building, and stopped inside of a shopping centre, Matthew looked at Ivan, "What was that eh?"

Ivan shrugged, "Mutual hate for one person, is stronger than a dislike?"

"Oh… well thanks for saving me." Matthew replied, as he let go of Ivan, feeling ashamed for before, he also added, "And thanks for before uhm… but you don't really need to concern yourself for me."

However, Ivan was looking around at the mall curiously, "Show me around?"

"Eh?" the question took Matthew by surprise, as he looked around as well. Nothing special, just a mall.

Realizing that it seemed strange, Ivan said, "Usually, I don't have time to explore other countries – usually kept to a tight schedule."

"Oh.." Matthew smirked, as he said, "Why? Afraid you'll run away from home?"

"Yes," came the reply.

Matthew couldn't see the expression, as Ivan had begun to move on ahead, like a tanker in a sea of ice.

The mall wasn't that crowded, Matthew had visited other parts of the world, the mass amount of people overwhelmed him, so to return home to his colder climes, and to be able to walk around a mall with maybe one hundred customers was a treat.

Room to stretch out in, time to dawdle outside a window for an hour thinking of other things, or perhaps giving a pleasant smile to the bored looking sales person who was probably thinking of creative ways to kill themself.

Things you couldn't really do in other places – especially the dawdling outside a window for an hour, in the States that was bound to bring out a shotgun or two. There had been an unpleasant experience, that Matthew preferred to forget, that involved him getting yelled at by a brandishing American, with him running away as fast as possible, only later to meet up with the man again at the bank holding the place up. Bad days, bad days, whenever Alfred invited him with the invitation of 'excitement', he should remind himself of that bank robbery where he got shot in the ass for protecting an old granny, egged on by Alfred's heroism.

Even though that wound had healed, sometimes, on days where he swore his brother was being most annoying, a small twinge would occur in reminder.

The Russian was making way for an escalator, Matthew following behind like a small puppy, feeling as if he was getting the tour instead.

Walking through the place, Ivan was continuously looking around, before pausing outside a pet store, taking in the scene. Looking over to Matthew who was straggling behind, he said, "Where you live, it's very calm."

Giving a guarded reply, Matthew said, "Anything wrong with that?"

That was another complaint of Alfreds – how 'boring' Canada was. How nothing big ever seemed to happen, and if there was change it happened so slowly no one noticed it.

Seeming genuinely surprised at the defensiveness of the other, Ivan replied, "It's nice, I like it."

"Oh." Still, Matthew regarded the other with some suspicion. People didn't usually like the malls – if they were to like his country, it was usually the scenery, or the fact that you could still hunt big game. The German brothers liked to visit and make a vacation of hunting down the big game, Ludwig probably a little too excited while carving the freshly dead animal up for dinner.

Entering the pet store, Matthew observed as Ivan seemed instantly drawn to the cage holding the small mewling kittens, his face softening as he knelt down, and stuck his gloved fingers through the bars.

A small kitten, curiously walked over, it's golden eyes wide as it began to playfully bat at the large fingers.

"Looks like you have more than one use for those fingers," Matthew found himself casually blurting, before going bright red.

The Russian slowly looked at him, his soft expression changed into something more surprised, as he replied, "They're good for holding vodka as well."

"Ah sorry.. I didn't mean to say that." Came the mumble, as Matthew squatted down beside the other, peering into the cage. "Do you own any pets?"

"No… too busy." Came the vague reply, as he turned the attention back to the kitten playfully nipping at him.

"Hm. Ludwig has some pets – he's busy too. I'm sure if you wanted…" Matthew trailed off, before finishing lamely with, "But I guess he gets people in when he's away."

"Where's your bear?"

"Kumathingy?" Matthew replied vaguely, "He's off somewhere… when we're home I don't worry too much about him. Probably trekking about near Inuvik."

"If he's good by himself, why do you take him to world meetings?" Ivan replied with childish curiosity.

Smiling slightly, Matthew said, "He insists on coming. Has some vague idea that I can't protect myself outside my own borders."

"And can you?"

Looking over to Ivan, to attempt to judge where he was going with this, Matthew replied lightly, with a wink, "There's a reason why Ludwig's very polite to me, and why Lars sends me tulips each year."

"Ah." Ivan had heard some rumours, but unlike the American, he hadn't been inundated with Canadian War Hero stories, so… had sort of forgotten that the other had even been in that war. "Why are you not like your brother? As loud?"

Violet eyes slipped away from Ivan's face, looking back towards the kitten, "I'm sure if you took your glove off, the kitten's fur would be soft."

"Would you like to hold them?" A cheery voice said from behind.

Startled slightly, the two looked up to an enthusiastic worker, her smile friendly.

"Sure." Matthew replied, standing up properly.

Ivan was a little slower, but he withdrew his hand, as the girl opened up the cage, and picked up the kitten that had been playing with him. Handing it to him, she let out a soft smile as the animal automatically snuggled up to him purring loudly.

"It's nice to see how he likes you." The lady commented, before turning to Matthew. "Which one would you like to hold?"

"Uh- that one."

Ivan watched with some interest as Matthew picked out a kitten he hadn't even noticed. It was sitting miserably in the far corner of the cage, half hidden by a blanket. Looking at the animal, it was very clear that the animal was the runt of the litter.

The lady seemed surprised, as if she hadn't noticed the animal before either. Picking it up, the animal's depression was clear as she handed it to Matthew, who gently held it.

The kitten seemed unsure at first, but when Matthew began to pet it, it settled, it's blue eyes shutting happily as it began to purr.

"Do you have any pets? Other then the bear?" Ivan asked.

"No. I haven't really thought about it," came the reply, "Although this kitten sure is tempting."

Matthew held the kitten up above him, the small paws flailing out towards his face, the kitten letting out a small mew.

"Would you like to be adopted?" he cooed eyes sparkling happily.

Ivan was entranced, the boys genuinely happy face something he hadn't ever seen before, how relaxed the other seemed, how brilliantly he seemed to shine. Why did no one else seem to notice him?

In a way, he wished Matthew meant him – he would happily be adopted by the other nation if it meant getting his chin scratched like that, Ivan thought, his attention getting torn away by the small kitten wriggling in his grasp, clearly wanting to play.

"Eh?" Matthew looked over to him, "Did you just say something?"

Ivan flushed, as he realized he might have actually said 'yes' out loud. Smiling, he replied, "This kitten is very energetic."

"It is," Matthew replied, lowering his small bundle, "I never thought you to be interested in such cute animals, you always came off as the 'I hate the world, because the world hates me' type."

"I am not that self pitying," Ivan replied not entirely sure on whether to feel affronted or pleased that the other spoke such words to his face.

"Good to know," Matthew replied, as he handed the reluctant kitten back to the worker, "What do you want me to show you?"

"Whatever you think is interesting," Ivan replied amiably, as his kitten got taken away, "I am not too picky."

To be honest, Ivan was attempting to figure the other out – what at first had seemed like an easy to define picture had transformed into something more like a Chinese puzzle box.  
One false move, and he would have to go back to the beginning.

"Ok." Matthew looked around, as if trying to make his country more appealing, before shrugging and blithely asking, "Want to look at lizards?"

"Da."

They ended up visiting various stores, the conversation a little awkward between them, Matthew clearly not knowing what to say, Ivan not bothering to contribute.

When the food court presented itself, Matthew arbitrarily decided that they would eat, automatically going to one of the fast food places and ordering for both.

Poking curiously at the fast food poutine, Ivan took a bite, his eyes widening in surprise, "It's good."

"Not exactly the best, but it works," Matthew demurred, as he dug in.

"So what did you mean about reinacting our sex?" Ivan asked, the question had been burning inside him the entire time, and to see Matthew choke on his food was satisfying in a way.

Wiping his mouth, Matthew replied vaguely, "What exactly do you mean?"

In a surprisingly close imitation, Ivan said "What? I thought you liked our re-enactment with you as the table. – What exactly did you mean by that?"

Matthew's face was a very good imitation of a tomato, as he looked down, dolefully poking at his poutine. "Oh that."

"Yes that," Ivan leant in closer his face serious, "I do not like to be humiliated in that way Matvey."

Matthew blanched, automatically shoving his chair backwards in a small attempt to escape.

"Don't you play games with me," Ivan hissed, "It doesn't matter where you run, I will find you."

Swallowing some of his fear, Matthew replied, "And do what to me?"

In response, Ivan smiled.

Warring emotions battled across Matthew's face, before he warily shifted closer, "Fuck, I'm screwed anyway."

Laying his hands flat out on the table, palm down, Matthew took a deep breath, and replied, "I didn't actually say I fucked you – it was more of a fantasy I brought up. You know, role play."

"And you wanted to reinact it because?"

Here Matthew sighed, "Mr. Russia, you can't live in some naïve little bubble where other people don't think about you, or perhaps make fun of you."

"I'd like to," came the dark comment, "Sweden better watch out."

"Wha?"

Ivan smiled, "Oh, just something he did."

Shaking his head, Matthew replied, "Would it be better if I said I played your part in the entire situation?"

Ivan hadn't expected that, before asking, "So if Gilbert was the table, who played you?"

Here Matthew paused, as if having an inner battle, and took a few more bites of his poutine, his gaze wandering around the food court.

"For my favourite poutine, that would be a hard choice. There are so many different varieties, it would be like comparing apples and oranges. There are some snobs who say Drummondville's poutine is the only way to go by, but there is also the contending factors of Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu or Victoriaville who claim to have invented it. To be honest, to focus on the place of invention, and say that is the best poutine ever is a little silly. Plus, with the variations, there are so many different types. Chicken, pasta – it's just all tossed in like some mess. It's hard to choose, although I will concede that I much prefer cheese curds in my poutine than grated cheese. Grated cheese just doesn't cut it."

"Don't fuck with me boy," Ivan hissed, his hand shooting out, and grabbing Matthew's wrist. "Answer my questions."

Cold eyes met his, it was as if Ivan had flicked a switch, as there came the very quiet whisper of, "I don't see who I fuck is any of your concern. I don't want to talk to you anymore, you're not _nice_."

And then, before Ivan's very eyes, he watched as the other nation became… fuzzy.

It was strange, to see the other nation pull out of his grasp and stand up, before magically melting into the crowd, his features seeming to blur to look like all those around him.

If Ivan hadn't been staring at him the entire time in shock, he knew he would have been puzzled as to why exactly he was sitting in the food court with two containers of poutine in front of him.

Yes, he was angry at the other's slipping away, but he was intrigued – the whole disappearing act seeming to trigger a whole hoard of memories where the other had used exactly those methods to escape various other unpleasant altercations. The thought that no, it wasn't really _cowardice_ that made the other nation do that – it was when the other nations weren't being polite. When the other nations didn't bother to listen, or just happened to cross a line that the other did not want to deal with.

Ivan felt as if he had gained a whole insight into how the other dealt with situations – this was how Matthew pouted, sulked what have you. The polar opposite of his brother, with the unfortunate side effect that no one realized that he was pissed off!

He knew he had to act quickly, as he stood up, his senses trained on the others presence.

It was faint, but still there, unmistakably Matthew.

He ignored the people around him apologizing, as he aggressively pushed through, oddly graceful in his speed, the years of figure skating and ballet shining through.

Grabbing the other, he hissed, "I do not like you running away."

When the other went limp, Ivan nearly loosened his grip, he had been expecting a struggle, a defiant spitting in his face.

Instead there came a resigned sigh.

"Could we at least not talk about it here?"

"Where would you propose? I do not think returning to the hotel would be advisable."

"Uhmm, hold on," Matthew replied distractedly, as he took out his phone, "I gotta phone Alfred."

"Why?"

In response, Matthew held out his phone, displaying all the missed calls, "Before he aims the nukes at you, I should let him know I'm ok."

"You mean he's stopped aiming them at me?" came the surprised question.

"Eeeeeh," Matthew replied, as he held the phone to his ear, "Hello?"

Ivan could hear a loud burst of noise from the other end, and watched as the Canadian flushed, "I'm fine! Ah? Prussia got away? No you can't bomb a country that doesn't exist - I'm _fine_ Alfred. But I can't make it tonight, the PM needs me and.. uh.. ah uh.. yeah. No really, I'm sorry Alfred, uhmmm make it up sometime later? Ah Mr. Russia? Mr. Russia isn't here, no, uhm, don't worry about Mr. Russia. No Alfred, don't worry, I'm not getting blackmailed or anything by him. Yeah uh… oh I gotta go, work."

Matthew closed his phone, before turning to the other nation looking at him curiously.

"So instead of fully dealing with a situation you turn invisible and ignore it."

It was a statement. A curious statement, but not a question. Matthew felt himself flush. It felt like an accusation.

"Eh!"

"Or lie your way out of it. I wouldn't have thought you to be such an accomplished liar." Ivan's tone was curious, with surprise, "I mean, your reputation…"

"Ah, uhm." Matthew's face reddened, before he quickly replied, "I'll take you to where we can talk."

Ivan was feeling more sceptical by the moment. Come to think of it, the more he got to know the other nation, the more he got that lost sensation that he didn't know anything at all. It was as if discovering for the first time that your sister had a sex drive, and that it was unfortunately entirely directed towards you…

"Uh- this'll be better if we just shift there," Matthew stated, "Can I hold your hand? It'll be a lot easier."

Bemused by the polite asking of permission, Ivan nodded, with the ironic thought that hand holding was the least of his worries concerning this fellow nation.

The scenery distorted like a blotchy oil painting, before suddenly lurching back into crisp precision.

First thing that Ivan noticed was the lack of buildings. Matthew had apparently shifted them out of the city entirely. There wasn't that awkward snow sludge surrounding them either, just very dry brown grass that had an air of abandonment about it.

"Are you sure it's a wise idea to take me into the middle of nowhere?"

"To be honest I don't think anywhere alone with you is a smart idea," came the dry reply.

Giving a small nod, Ivan looked around, taking a deep breath of fresh air, "Where are we?"

"Anywhere, Canada," Matthew replied, "I don't really care where we are, but I wanted some place where we couldn't be found."

"It's warmer." Ivan seemed surprised, still attempting to figure out where they had been transported to.

"You know how it is with our size..." Matthew replied with some bemusement, "One part of the country is experiencing a massive cold snap, while the other part is having a heat wave. Where at night you sleep with the blanket half on because you're freezing, but you stick one leg out because it's sweating due to excess heat."

"Yeah!" Ivan found himself agreeing, feeling a moment of excitement to be able to talk to someone about this type of situation. The others usually didn't talk to him about simple things like this. Conversations were perfunctory, nothing stupidly intimate about how drastic weather changes could affect sleeping patterns were ever brought up around him.

He knew the countries did talk about it, he had overheard a few conversations, especially when England was still the massive British Empire, having trouble regulating his body temperature. He had once heard a rumour that the only real reason England had acquired Canada was to help tone down the heat of some of his more southern colonies. It was odd to think how often he forgot how big Canada was. There were only a few places he heard about often, about five cities in total if he were paying any real attention to the news.

Closing his eyes he remembered gazing at a map of Canada once, his mind attempting to form around strangely shaped words like Saskatoon, Arviat, Kokokoho Lake and Provost.  
Words he had quickly forgotten, like he had the rest of the country until now.

"Mr. Russia are you alright?" the others voice seemed to have gotten more nervous, as well as the different form of address, causing the other country to open his eyes and eye the smaller nation.

"I am fine, why do you ask?" he pleasantly replied with a smile.

"You didn't open your eyes – uh well. I guess you're fine." Matthew replied, deciding to drop the subject, "Let's go over here."

He turned towards some trees, not bothering to see if the other followed. Past the trees, they managed to come out upon a small lake, the glassy surface reflecting it's entire world back to the sky.

Matthew sat himself down on a log, shifting over so that the Russian could sit beside him.

The Canadian seemed content to look out over the still water, as if releasing the worries of his day. Despite everything, Ivan could feel himself relax as well, the change of location seeming to wipe the slate clean.

"Mr. Russia-"

Here Ivan stopped him, "Why are you so formal suddenly? We have fucked each other already, I do not see why there should be any need for pretend politeness."

Matthew stared at him, before saying, "I suppose you're right. I didn't take you to be so blunt."

Ivan smiled, "I have my moments. I am an impatient man at times, sometimes there is too much small talk with nothing getting done."

"True... uhm. Well. I sleep around a lot, and you just happened to come up. I didn't blatantly say I slept with you, I laid it out more as a fantasy." Matthew awkwardly begun, his cheeks tinting red, "I suppose that's it."

"You take me all the way out here for that?" Ivan asked with a childish smile.

"Eh well… uhm." Matthew took a deep breath, before saying in a rather quiet stream of words, which seemed laden with apology, "I'. UsuallyI'. ,'t ? It'sreallynotthatbad."

Ivan stared ,trying to dissect the rushed words. Deciding to play with the nervous Canadian, he said, "Could you please repeat that in a language I understand? I don't speak Canadian."

Matthew took a deep breath, his eyes flashing slightly at the other's response, but knowing that he probably had really whispered things really fast, fearful of making the other nation pissed at him.

"I'm sorry that you had to see what you did this morning," he began a little firmer, and slower, making sure that the Russian understood his words, "I mean, uhm, usually people don't just come visit my room or anything, and this is one of those unavoidable things that happens, that can't be changed. So uh – don't go all apeshit on Alfred, he's really not all that bad…"

"What makes you think I was going to play the hero?" Ivan replied, his smile widening slightly, "Don't worry about unavoidable relations. I understand those perfectly."

Matthew got the awkward feeling that Ivan, was usually the one inflicting unavoidable relations, not the other way round.

"Oh.. then why did you.. why were you so .. nice?" Matthew asked, a little perplexed by the others reply. "And why did you say you would take care of me?"

It felt like to Matthew the moment you begun to get a basic comprehension of the Russian, a herd of dancing giraffes paraded by leaving you lost and questioning your own identity.

"One doesn't have to go all 'hero' in order to take care of someone Matvey," Ivan replied, "I am smart enough to realize that bombing Alfred in his current state would only spell trouble for my country... trouble that right now I cannot really afford."

"Wait – would that mean if you had the money you would bomb him?"

Ivan's smile widened, the aura of crazy spilling out from around him, "Da, of course. Alfred needs a couple good bombs. If I could I would blast him off the face of the earth, make a beautiful marine wild life park instead."

"Whoah – wait up!" Matthew's voice held an edge of fear, "I happen to be part of that continent as well, and sure Alfred is annoying, but I do NOT want to end up as some sort of marine wild life park just because you got a lot of money and decided to use it on some useless task of bombing."

"Why would you call bombing America useless? I say it would bring a big improvement to world meetings... and I would make sure you weren't hit da? No need to worry."

"Couldn't you use that money to help your people? Like making national healthcare, or better funding for public education?"

"Tried that, didn't work," Ivan replied, "Although the privatization isn't working either..."

Matthew sighed, "But you also focused on building giant bombs as well."

"If I didn't Alfred would have come right in!"

"Right, the war between two ideals, that have already failed, or are currently failing."

Ivan's eyes narrowed, "I doubt Alfred would like it if you said that to his face."

"Alfred doesn't like a lot of things I do – that is if he could remember them."

Ivan giggled, "You're funnier than I thought you would be."

Giving a wry smile, Matthew shrugged. "No one really bothers to hear my jokes, and when they do they don't realize it's me half the time."

"You need to do something about that da? That whole invisible thing."

"Maybe I just don't want to," Matthew replied, "I don't have to worry too much about getting bombed, or being viewed as a threat if people don't think about me all that much."

Tilting his head to the side, Ivan considered the others response, "But what about when they mistake you for Alfred?"

"Well, it's not like they're going to locate my country on the map and mistake that... and uhm.. I've learnt how to deal with it. Not that bad..."

Matthew winced slightly at the memory of Cuba's aggressive head pounding, or the dark looks some of the other countries shot his way during meetings when they noticed him.

"Really, it could be worse." Matthew finished weakly.

"Why do you sleep around so much?"

Ivan's next question made Matthew wince.

"Uh – there isn't a rule saying that countries shouldn't sleep with whom they please is there? I'm not really entirely in any type of serious relationship, so there isn't any reason why I can't try out the local flavour."

"'Not really entirely'? Is that some more of your Canadian slang I don't understand?"

"Well... it's hard to explain."

"I have time." Ivan replied, his curiosity perked.

Matthew sighed, reached out and grabbed some grass, before shredding it between his fingers.

Why was he telling Ivan so much about himself? It wasn't like him to just begin to open up. It was odd, that despite the terror the other nation did invoke in him at times, that on a level he trusted him.

While his brain and common sense screamed at him to not trust the other at all, Matthew found that despite all of this he wanted to tell Ivan things he only told two other people in his life.

"Uh well it's not really a closed relationship, but it's more of an understanding I have with two people... I guess for lack of a better term it's an open polyamorous relationship." Matthew said.

"Two people?" Ivan's eyebrows rose. Matthew was just coming out with the surprises, like a matryoshka doll.

"I didn't intend for it to start like that!" Matthew came out defensively, "It just sort of happened... I sort of ended up 'dating' both around the same time, because at first I didn't think anything really long term would happen from it, because let's face it. Long term for us tends to be a lot longer... and well.. I got found out. So they confronted me at once, and well things ended up working in a different way than either of us expected."

"I'm guessing one is Gilbert?" Ivan asked, his curiosity on who the other may be increasing.

"Yeah, I guess today he was being obvious..." Matthew said, his cheeks turning pink.

"Then whom would Gilbert share you with? I doubt anyone would be able to compete with his ego," Ivan asked, his mind bending the puzzles as to who would even be able to put up with the arrogant ex-nation.

Fidgeting slightly, Matthew was silent for a moment, before finally blurting out, "Lars."

Ivan was not entirely sure how to respond to that. In fact, he was suffering from a mild bout of shock.

Prussia and Netherlands, had really been at serious odds throughout their relationship, although, if he thought about it more, their fights usually did get resolved with some sort of forgiveness happening. There was no other way to do things, when one lived in such close proximity to the other. It was either hate with a vengeance, or attempt to make some sort of peace.

However, both men were intensely selfish, and proud.

Despite there being "forgiveness" of a sort between them, for past grievances, there still remained a competitive nature, where one always had to win.

If what Matthew was saying was actually true, that he had managed to tame the competiveness to such a level so as to form a compromise over a relationship so personal – well. Apparently, Matthew was one hell of a peace keeper.

Vaguely, a memory attempted to surface over a situation where Matthew really had proved his compromise skills, something important. Something impressive... there was the vague feeling it involved England, France and America, but what exactly the situation was escaped him. (Plus, deep down, the idea of someone actually able to force those three to work together after hours of fighting seemed somewhat impossible to him.)

"How did you manage that?" he found himself asking.

Blankly, Matthew stared at Ivan, as if the answer was obvious. "Through reason."

"There had to be more than that," Ivan replied suspiciously, "Don't play around with me da?"

"You really want to know?" Matthew asked, his tone taking on an edge Ivan could not quite identify.

"If I don't find out, I would not be able to sleep due to thinking about it – and I am very unpleasant when not well rested. I would make sure to stay in Canada, until you tell me." Came the cheerful response.

"Hold on..." Matthew mumbled, as he turned around, and began adjusting his clothes, and hair.

A minute passed, until Matthew turned back to face Ivan, the change clear to see.

Violet eyes were half filled with tears, once perfectly ordered hair had an air of distress emanating from each follicle, and a lower lip trembled. The clothes were adjusted to give a vulnerable look, as if Matthew was unconsciously begging to be taken advantage of.

Imperceptibly shaking, Matthew reached out with his hand, as he whispered in a choked up manner, "Please, stop fighting. I'll do anything for you two to get along." As if to emphasize the anything, Matthew moved closer to Ivan, looking up at him with big shiny sad eyes.

Ivan knew Matthew was acting, he knew the gently trembling hand clutching at his jacket was an act. He also knew the trembling lower lip was only a play, or the messy hair framing the vulnerable looking face was all just an act.

He just couldn't look away, he couldn't even reply properly. His mouth had gone dry, and his pants had tightened awkwardly, and his heart was making an odd thuthump in his chest (enough of a ruckus to have him concerned that it might actually fall out again.)

Matthew seemed to realize the effect he was having, as he pressed his trembling body more firmly against Ivan, "If you promise not to go all psycho on Alfred, I'll do what you want..."

Ivan wasn't even sure if he had heard the words right, his breathing had gone funny, and his attention was caught on the perfectly crystallized drop caught up on Matthew's eyelashes. (Were his eyelashes always that long? Ivan wondered)

"Anything?" Ivan murmured, the word coming out heavily.

There was much implied in "anything", and Ivan wondered if he could really ask what would be considered impossible tasks...

Matthew gave a small nod.

"I want you to drop the others, and become my full time lover." Ivan finally replied.


End file.
